


Miel de Caña

by lavidabrillante



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Companion Piece, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, First Dates, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Love, Love/Hate, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Past Relationship(s), Real Madrid CF, Romance, Romantic Friendship, Sexual Content, Surprises, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 13:38:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 75,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4668626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavidabrillante/pseuds/lavidabrillante
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>María Carmen Navas de la Cruz - or Maricarmen -  is set up on a blind date with her football crush, Sergio Ramos, by her best friend Leah. She's used to success in many parts of her life, but one of them isn't with men. </p>
<p>Sergio is newly single, working to get over his latest relationship when his teammate's fiancee sets him up with one of her best friends. He's hoping that this setup can turn into something, but it would be nice to at least have a new friend. </p>
<p>This story is told in both Maricarmen and Sergio's point of views. Companion story to 'The Curse of the Copa.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Sergio -**

There was Elena before Lara, Marina before Sara, and most recently Alba and Isa. I was going through women one by one. They were all gorgeous yes, and some of them smart, but none of them were the perfect match for me. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I knew she had to be out there somewhere. At the rate I was going, I would never find her.

I was pretty sure that I had met her before, but she always seemed to be uninterested. She was so different looking: tall and thin, with honey brown skin, a few freckles, deep brown eyes, and curly hair. I had seen her at a distance at a few events and dinner parties, but I always had one of the  _others_  by my side. I couldn’t be a rude date and go and speak to her. I didn’t even know her name. I would make awkward eye contact and quickly look away, hoping that my date at the time wouldn’t notice.

She was Leah’s best friend. Cristiano’s girlfriend and I became close over the past few years. Since we were friends, I thought it was weird that I was majorly crushing on her closest girl pal. It seemed off limits to me to the point that I didn’t even want to ask her what her name was. I just always hoped that she would be at the next game, walking arm in arm with Leah in the stadium in a tiny dress. From what I saw, her curves were to die for. I imagined how she looked in less formal attire, the kind that only people involved  _in that way_  see. I decided not to get my hopes up. If she was anything like Leah, it would take forever to even get a kiss.

Leah asked me to join her for coffee during a lunch break, and I did, needing to get away from my apartment. I was spending a lot of time there lately. I had broken up with Isa (most recent pointless somewhat of a girlfriend) and wanted to avoid both her and paparazzi. My apartment became a total messy guy space where I indulged in awful television and hours of FIFA on my Playstation (a little excessive, but football has been my entire life since I can remember).

“I need for you to do me a huge favor,” Said Leah in the middle of our conversation, stirring her coffee quickly. I decided this was a very American thing to do. She was always in a rush. They didn’t understand the beauty of taking things slow—thinks the guy who wants to undress this girl he doesn’t even know, not even her name.

“Depends on what it is,” I said.

“Okay. So, you know my friend María Carmen?”

“Which one is that?”

“Tall, light brown, curly hair, gorgeous, is from Málaga and speaks Catalán? That Maricarmen. I know that you probably know a lot of them.”

It  _was_  her. Now I knew her name, and more perfect, she was from Andalucia.

“Is she the one who is always with you?” I needed to play stupid.

“Yeah, that one.  _Mira_.” Leah pulled out her phone to a picture of the two of them in white dresses on the beach. She—Maricarmen—looked absolutely stunning, as did Leah, but I wasn’t attracted to the latter in that way. We were strictly friends.

“What about her?” I needed to know.

“So, you know how you’ve been going through all these awful women—especially Isa,  _Dios mío_ , she was absolutely horrible.”

“ _Si_?”

“Mari has the same problem as you. Since I love you both, I wanted to set you two up on a date. You’re charming. You two can talk about Andalucia and your love for horses.”

“She likes horses?”

“Yeah. She rides. Her grandparents have horses in Malaga. She’s been around them since she could walk.”

What else did this girl need to be any more perfect in my mind? An Andaluz girl who rides, and her body is amazing—and she does equestrian too? The things I could do to her…

“So, is it a yes or a no?” Leah was impatient.

“Of course, for you it’s not a problem.” For me, it wasn’t a problem either.

“Perfect. I know that you have a game Sunday, so when are you free?”

“Monday.” I would have to wait four long days to meet her.

“Hold on. Let me text her to make sure she’s not free. You know she works in PR too, right?”

I didn’t care where she worked as long as it was on me. “So don’t say or do anything stupid. And, you know that she tells me everything, Sergio. If you say something about me, it’s over.”

I laughed, “I promise I won’t do anything stupid, and I’ll take good care of her.”

This promise was true.

“She says she’s free Monday night. Great! You will love her! You are the best.”

“No problem, Leah. Only for you,” I said.

If only she knew how much this was for me too. I would count down the days, hours, minutes, and seconds I had between the coffee break and my date with  _her_. I wondered if she was as anxious to meet me. Only time would tell.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sergio -**

I’ll skip describing dinner because there isn’t anything too interesting about people eating. The  _churrasco_  was great and the conversation was even better. I had a steak,  and got to talk about home, two of my favorite things. I don’t know why I expected anything different from one of Leah’s friends. Maricarmen was so smart, so articulate, and so hot. I was growing increasingly excited sitting with her. I had to control myself better.

But she was so hot. I’m being repetitive, but it’s the best way to describe her. I didn’t want to kiss her too soon because I couldn’t tell if she was that type of girl. Being Leah’s friend, I didn’t want to assume the chemistry I felt with her gave me the ok to kiss her on the first date.

So, after eating enough meat and potatoes for two people myself, we went to my favorite bar for a couple of drinks. A little wine never hurt anyone, especially wine from home. This place always kept _vino dulce_  stocked, and it happened to be from Málaga, Maricarmen’s town. I started to get a little touchy with her in our booth, running my hands against her thigh. She was muscular, probably from all the riding she did—horses of course.

She didn’t tell me to stop. I wanted to kiss her so badly. It was killing me, and she could tell. “What are you waiting for?” She whispered into my ear. I guess that she was tired of me awkwardly touching her.

“What do you mean?” I said.

“You’ve been giving me that look all night, Sergio. I know that look. I’ve seen you look like this before. Like that one time you were at Leah’s and we were messing with you so badly. I kept holding her hand and making faces at you. I knew that you wanted me but you were with one of those horrible, horrible women. Was it Isa that time or Marina?”

She was cocky. I loved it: my type of woman. And she had been interested in me for a long time too? Even better.

“I need your permission first.”

“Given.”

“Perfect.”

I spent a little time gazing into her eyes. They were deep, never ending, and so beautiful. Everything about her—from her curls to the lonely freckle I noticed under her left eye.

“What are you waiting for?” She asked again, impatiently.

“This.” I moved in and kissed her slowly, taking in her smell, her taste, all of her. I had to remember we were still somewhat in a public space—this make out session would have to continue later, hopefully at my place. I held on to her lower lip for a little before I let go.

“Do you like it rough?” She whispered.

“I do. Did I hurt you?”

“No you didn’t—I just wanted to check. I thought you were going to bite my lip off.”

“Sorry.” Messed up already.

“No, it’s fine—I like it a little rough too,” she turned a little red, “What is this stuff?” She picked up the bottle on the table, “ _vino dulce_  from Málaga. Good choice.”

“I had to make this completely a night in Andalucía. It’s the closest we could get without going home, no?” I smiled.

“You’re too much. And for that, here,” She kissed me, returning the favor and biting me hard back, “ _Churrasco_ ,  _vino dulce_ , a Sevillan sweetheart. This was such a great night.”

I wasn’t satisfied yet.

I needed more of her. And I was flattered that she called me a sweetheart. The last girl I was with called me things far from that, threw a shoe at my head, and walked out angrily after I told her I was no longer interested.

I looked at my watch, it was about 1:30 AM, early for Spain. The night was young, and there was plenty for us to do. “It doesn’t have to be over,” I said, indirectly implying that I wanted her to stay the night.

“What do you mean?” She said, putting her hand on top of mine.

“I can show you how much of a sweetheart I really am.”

“Oh? Really? I liked the rough side of you.” She laughed a little.

“He can show up too. Yes or no.”

“Of course. Lead the way.”

* * *

At 3:00 AM, I had her on my couch continuing the conversation we began at dinner and continued in the bar, the awkward eyes, touches, and kisses. We were alone now and there were no spectators, no one to start rumors or take pictures. She sat cuddled against my body as I moved my hand across her thigh, slowly up her dress until I felt the bottom of her panties, brushed over them with my fingers, moving on to her hip.

“Stop teasing me,” She complained as I touched her.

“How so?” I asked.

She turned and looked at me, not saying anything, and moved in for another long kiss. “We could make this easier?”

“You said you wanted it rough though.”

“Yeah, not emotionally rough, but physically rough.”

“Oh,” I kissed her again, both of my hands under her dress now. I held on to the top of her panties, wanting to slip them off as quickly as possible.

I decided to take them off anyway, no questions asked. 

“These are cute,” I said, slipping them down to her knees, which were in my lap. Her hands were on my shoulders.

“You’ve been complimenting me all night,” She said between kisses, “I can get used to this—but tell me why I should let you do this.”

Everything was going perfectly in my opinion until she asked this basic loaded question. I decided not to tell her that the perfect reasoning was because I’m Sergio Ramos and a million other women would love to be in her position right now. The truth was that I had been going through those other women quickly, and regardless of the physical satisfaction I gained from them, every so-called relationship I had been in recently was emotionless.

I was going through the motions, the sweet-talking and inviting them home, taking them to a couple events by my side in elegant dresses. They were never anyone I wanted to talk to, spend a long afternoon with, take home to Mama— _nada_. Call me crazy, but from my hours with her, I knew that she was different. No one else could talk to me about Andalucía, argue about what was better Sevilla or Málaga, actually understand football, have a real conversation, and of course talk about the horses. There was an emotional connection there, but I wanted the entire package—the physical too.

But then I was horrible with words. I didn’t need to really speak sweetly most of the time. I was known for my temper, my smart mouth on the football field. I felt like I was taking too long to answer her. Maricarmen’s brown eyes stared into mine, our noses nearly touching.

“I can’t really explain why with words,” I said, “But I can show you why I do.”

“You always have so much to say on the football field,” She began, running her fingers through my hair, “You can’t think of anything to say to me?”

What could I possibly say to this woman so beautiful, so attractive, and so desirable? Two minutes ago she asked for me to take off her clothes, and now I needed a good reason.

Thinking, thinking, thinking. Come on.

“Because I’ve been waiting for this moment with you for a very long time. You know that I’ve been crushing on you since I saw you at the  _Palacio_  for the first time, but I never knew what to say to you. And now I’m with you, and I can say that the moment is finally here.”

I needed to stop watching American movies. How cliché.

“Shh, that’s all I needed to know,” She moved in again, and began to kiss me. This time it was longer, slower, and I was able to taste her well. She was an excellent kisser. I felt myself become more excited by the second. I didn’t know how long I could contain myself.

So, she wanted to hear that I actually  _liked_  her. That it wasn’t me wanting a quick hook up? I’m guilty of wanting to hook up with her, yes, but this is something that I’ve been wanting for quite some time. I needed to quit thinking about this so much and just get to it.

“Let me show you what I mean,” I said, beginning to touch her slowly. As much as I wanted to do this as quick and dirty as possible, I also had to make sure I was pleasing her too. I moved my fingers slowly, touching her lightly and causing her to moan slightly in my ear.

“Sergio,” she said as I felt her. With each touch, she became a little louder and I felt my heart beat a little faster. If we were enjoying this so much, I imagined how it would be in a short period of time.

“ _Princesa_ , yes?” More touches, more moaning—I felt a rush begin to go through my body just by touching her.

“Keep going,  _por favor_.”

“Is this good enough?” Still resisting rushing through the process.

“It’s good, but I want it all.”

I stopped, “What?”

“Take of my clothes and do it. Now. We’ve been playing all around what I know we both want to do all night. You’ve undressed me with your eyes about twenty-five times. I asked you stupid questions. Let’s get to it right now.”

“Here? It would be better in my room.”

“Fine.”

We got up, and I took her hand, leading her to my bedroom. I was lucky that it was clean. After the shoe to the head, I wasn’t expecting many female visitors any time soon. She sat on the edge of the bed and said, “Hurry.”

“Trust me, I will,” I said, slipping her dress over her head and flinging it on the floor. It was a couple minutes of taking off clothes, kisses, touches, everything before we were finally both naked, heavily breathing, and staring at each other.

“ _Lista_?” I asked her.

She didn’t need to speak, but gave me a quick kiss and allowed me to open her legs so I could enter her body. I saw a slight pained look in her face and was worried. Then I remembered that she liked it rough, so it was okay. I hoped that she wasn’t lying. I didn’t have time to process this information; I had to make her happy.

And make me happy too.

I held onto her arms tightly, moving back and forth and causing her to be noisy with every motion. Her nails were digging in the lower part of my back.

“Sergio,” She whined again.

“ _Princesa_ , you’re being so loud.” I loved it. I loved it so much.

“I can’t help it,” She continued. “I—”

I couldn’t find the words to tease her, because I felt the same way she did at the time. We finished together, leaving me satisfied, and I hoped that she was too. I leaned in to kiss her.

“ _Dios mío._ ” Said Maricarmen, now holding her hands on the back of my neck.

“Yes?” I asked.

“I haven’t felt like that in awhile.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. Can you do it again? In the morning?”

“You’re staying the night?” I said, pretending to be surprised.

“ _Claro_. I have no work tomorrow, and there is plenty of you for me.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Sergio -**

**Hola. Qué tal? I really enjoyed getting to spend time with you last night—**

**Princesa, I was so sad when you had to leave me this morning. I hope that I can see you soon—**

Too much, too soon?

**Mari, I need you.**

I wouldn’t reply to anything like that.

**Hola guapa. It was great hanging out with you. I hope that we can do it again ;)**

I couldn’t tell if this was sufficient, so I decided to send the text of the decade to my friend and national teammate Fernando Torres who was in London. Although he was married and had a couple of kids, he was still very reliable to help solve my women problems. Besides, he was doing pretty well in this department, so it couldn’t hurt. I liked my ability to go between women, but I was jealous of his relationship stability and perfect little family at the same time. I guess this is what happens when you’re 26.

He immediately sent me a message back:

**I know I’m good looking, but this is definitely to the wrong person. Found a new lady already, Sergio? I’m impressed, especially after the shoe to the head :P**

I forgot that I needed to provide him with an update of my latest love interest. Love, or what I imagined it to feel like—after less than twenty-four hours. And I couldn’t figure out why my friends thought the stiletto to the head was so funny. It risked harming my quite charming face.

**Oh. New girl. She is absolutely perfect. There’s something about her I really like, but I don’t know what to say to her. I want her to know it’s more than just hooking up.**

I pictured Fernando cuddling one of his little kids instead of sitting in the middle of his bed, flashing through every channel on television half naked with his hair tied in a bun on the top of his head. I was becoming more and more pathetic at home regardless of how flashy and confident I was in the outside world. This needed to change immediately.

**That seems fine. You have to tell me everything about her later. I have kid duty today. Wife is going out with friends. I have read the same story to Leo about twenty-five times in a row. You know what, why don’t you call her? That’s my advice.**

Calling her? Perhaps Nando was right, but I am not eloquent at all. She didn’t seem to mind last night. I didn’t know why I was so nervous.

I decided to send the text message anyway and play the waiting game. I grabbed a bag of  _palomitas_  from the kitchen and went back to my bedroom, also known as my current mancave. If I didn’t have practice, I probably wouldn’t leave here that often. I think I developed a fear of having a stiletto hit me in the head.

No reply.

She could be busy. Give her some time.

Do not be desperate, Sergio.

I did have some things to do instead of obsessing over whether the girl I knew for less than twenty-four hours would reply to my simple text message. I had a game the next night and should spend the rest of the evening relaxing.

Please. Not possible at all.

All I could think about since she left my apartment this morning before I had to go to training was Maricarmen. Her smile, her laugh, her touch, and how amazing she was in bed.

After taking a quick siesta for a couple hours, I woke up hoping that she sent me a message back. I had no messages,  _nada_. I had given up on hearing from her again. It would be me, alone, waiting for the next useless woman to run into me at a party, giving me her number and becoming my next so-called  _novia_.

Perhaps I would move from my bedroom and continue watching television in the living room so I could feel like I did something. I remembered the bullfight I taped from the day before in Sevilla. Nothing like a little bit of blood to make anyone feel better. I grew up going to  _corridas_  and wanted to be a  _matador_  if the whole football thing didn’t work out when I was little. There was my plan.  _Toros_ , food, and sleep; good thing I had some excitement in my life the night before—

And then the phone rang.

“ _Si?_ ” I said.

“Sergio?  _Hola!_ ” It was Maricarmen on the other end, “So you know how Leah and Cristiano had that huge really public fight? I’m having an intervention at my house with her, so it’s been a little crazy right now. I’m sorry that I didn’t answer you, but I loved hanging out with you too. I had a bruise I couldn’t explain to my friends from you.”

I smiled from hearing her voice.

“Oh, really? How is Leah?”

“Yes, really. She’s as fine as she could be. Please talk some sense into your friend for me.”

“I’ve been trying, believe me. What are you doing tonight?”

“As of now, nothing. Why?”

“Do you want to do something? You can come over for  _tortilla_ and  _toros_? There’s afight that was in Sevilla that I DVR-ed yesterday and haven’t watched it yet. Want to join me?”

“Only if you hold my hand during the bloody parts.”

“I can do that.”

“Perfect. Want me to bring anything?”

“Just bring yourself. I live in 5-301.”

“ _Bueno._ I’ll be over later, Sergio. Is 9 good?” She over exaggerated the ‘r’ in my name. I clicked my remote to check the time and saw that it was nearly 7. Had I really been lying across my bed since I got home after practice and lunch with teammates at 3:30? I needed to save my energy, stay inside, and pretend that being social was irrelevant. I was happy that I no longer needed to use this excuse when the guys asked me what I did the night before tomorrow. 

“Yes. Can’t wait to see you.”

“Me too.” I pictured her smiling on the other side, “ _Ciao_.”

* * *

Before I knew it, I heard my doorbell ring. It was quite complicated to get into my complex that was good for me because it prevented angry past girlfriends to easily enter and attempt to throw more stilettos at me. I suppose I am still extremely scarred from that experience.

“ _Si_?” I said into the intercom, anxious to hear her voice.

“ _Hola_. How do I get up there? It’s Maricarmen.”

“Let me buzz you in. I’m in building five, third floor which is as far as you can go.”

“Okay. If I get lost, I’ll call you. This place looks so huge today.”

I pressed the unlock button for the main gate and anxiously waited for her to arrive. I looked at myself in the mirror by my main door, smiled, and decided I wasn’t doing too much. I was wearing an oxford and jeans; an attempt to look nice without looking like it took two hours to get ready.

Who was I kidding? I was probably more into fashion than Maricarmen, but every time I saw her she looked pretty great to me. I needed to find out more about her tonight, not just about her ripped body and kisses. Be a gentleman, Sergio and don’t ask her to get into her skirt as soon as she walks into the door. Behave.

There were four knocks on the door.

I opened the door to see Maricarmen, looking stunning in a basic black dress and silver gladiator-style sandals. Her curls were half-up, half-down behind her head and she was carrying a recyclable shopping bag.

“Hey,” She said smiling. We both awkwardly looked at each other, trying to mentally decide if it was only appropriate for hello  _besitos_  on both cheeks or a quick peck on the lips. I decided to go for the cheeks instead of being too forward.

“Hey,” I replied. I should have kissed her normally. Next time.

“I couldn’t come empty handed. I’m feeling very domestic and was making croquettas so I brought some to go with the tortilla. I think we need salmorejo too,” She said stepping in and mentioning some of my favorite foods from home.

“Do you know how to cook?” I asked. This was an important question. One of the few ways to my heart was a woman who knew how to cook.

“A little. I’m not a top chef or anything, but I can whip up a few things. Do you cook?”

“Not really. I try really hard though, and can make quite a good  _tortilla_.”

“I’m going to have to teach you some of my secrets,” She said, “After you show me the kitchen. And I’m hungry, so this is going to be a quick lesson, Sergio. I want to watch the  _toros._  I even brought my white handkerchief.”

“ _En serio_?” I said, amused by how she was possibly more Andaluz than I was. I loved it.

“Yeah. We’re pretending we’re at home, right?”

“Right. I’ll show you to the kitchen now.”

I was hoping for more than dinner, but a recipe for another successful night together with Maricarmen…


	4. Chapter 4

**Sergio -**

I tried to cover the mark on my neck for fifteen minutes before practice.

I had been seeing Maricarmen for a few weeks. She was spending nearly every night at my place, leaving early in the morning to sneak in her apartment and change for work. I told her to leave some of her things in my apartment. She said it was too soon, deciding it was better to rush home and get dressed before she had to head to the office.  

The guys’ new favorite thing to do was to try to identify any trace of my daily hook ups with who I thought was the most beautiful woman to ever walk in the entire rich history of Spain. Today I woke up and noticed the gigantic red mark right above where my practice jersey would hit. Regardless of all the relationship drama Cristiano had recently, it was more fun for the guys to ask me about my new love interest, when they would meet her, and how long it would be before she threw some of her things at me.

What great friends I have.

Going through training was worse than usual, not neither because it was hot nor because it was hard. All I could think about the entire time was seeing Maricarmen. I was also exhausted. Before she left this morning, we had a quick and dirty sex session that started in my bedroom, moved to the shower, and ended in the kitchen. Since we were both needed to get to work on time and environmentally conscious, what can I say? We conserved water and energy by showering together and were being healthy through burning off a few calories. Let me stop. Back to the story.

This was the first time I noticed the tattoo on her pelvic bone: a small vine of six Spanish bluebells. I wanted to know what they meant.  I wondered if she had any other ones hiding from me. I decided that I would spend more attention to detail. I wanted something serious from my fling with Maricarmen. She wasn’t just going to be a hook up, but a future  _novia_ , I decided. Well, of course if she wanted to be my girlfriend. I mean, who wouldn’t? With how my luck has been, it seems like no one wants to take me seriously.

Maricarmen asked me if I had time for breakfast this morning, walking around my apartment in the tiniest black lace panties that left little room for imagination. I could see the bluebells peek through the material. Even though I had spent time with her in the shower, I wanted her naked again. Why did I have to go to training?

If _desayuno_  implied the type of meal I was hungry for, then I had a huge appetite. 

I suppose it was because I did plenty of eating after I removed the lace from Maricarmen’s body, beginning with my tongue. It was never too early for this type of  _desayuno_. I continued with my fingers, moving them up and down until I entered them into her body slowly, making her absolutely wet again, moaning my name and not so friendly words in Spanish and Catalan. I could figure out what she was saying most of the time, but I found it kind-of hot that she yelled things in this language I could only halfway understand. 

 “ _Joder_ , Sergio. I didn’t expect that this morning,” She said as I kissed her neck. I had her sitting on my dark grey granite countertop, my fingers now brushing across the bluebells, “I can’t even be around you for ten minutes without wanting more from you. We’re going to have to make rules.”

“I don’t believe in rules,” I said.

“I can tell, but I can’t do all of this fucking before work. I show up exhausted and late and I can’t tell anyone why. And the bruises and marks, I’m running out of excuses. Oh hey boss, I’m late because I was just having amazing sex with Sergio,” She kissed me.

“I think that I’m an acceptable excuse to be late,” I said, running my fingers through her hair, “Besides you always show up dressed so well and walking around in those lacy things. What else should I do but want to take them off?”

“I don’t know, let me get dressed and be on time, Sergio?”

“You have an hour before work. One more thing, please,” I whined.

“Sergio, I would, but I need to go change and make it to the middle of Madrid by 9:30 and I have like fifty-five minutes to do so. Your hard on is going to have to wait. Sorry,  _nene_. Take care of that yourself.” She patted my crotch a couple times as a tease, “You know I want to, but I have to leave.”

“No,” I whined again as she tried to get off the counter, “Stay with me.”

“I’ll be back this afternoon. Let’s do something normal as two people, yeah?”

I realized that I had never taken her out in daylight. She had been hinting at us being public for the past couple of days. She was gorgeous, so I had no excuse to why I was hiding her from the world. My friends knew that I was talking to someone new. I guess I wasn’t ready for the press to find out too. As much as I wanted to ignore what the papers said, I couldn’t help but pick up a few issues with pictures of me at the beach hooking up with the girl of the week. I had already developed this sort of protective feeling about Maricarmen. At the same time, I guess that this could be perceived as her only being a hook-up friend. This wasn’t the case at all.

So, I decided that I needed to let her go to work.

But there she was, legs open, sitting on my counter just begging for me for another quick session right before work.

“This is why you need to leave some of your things here. I can drop you off on the way to training, Mari.”

“Sergio, you know as well as I do that if I leave my things here and you volunteer to take me to work, we will both get fired.”

“How so?”

“I won’t ever want to leave you,” She turned a little red, “Uhh, move out of the way so I can wash up and go so I can see you later. You’re lucky that I have one work appropriate dress here and keep a blazer in my car.”

“Mari,” I whined after she got up, holding her body tight to mine, “Don’t leave me.”

“Sergio, I’m not going to be responsible for you allowing five goals tomorrow against Valencia,  _vale_? Let me go. One more kiss, and I’m getting dressed,  _comprendes_?”

“ _Otro beso princesa_?” I said, holding her hips from the back as she tried to walk away.

“You win, one more,” She turned around and kissed me quickly, “Wash up, clothes, and work Sergio Ramos. No more. I’m running out of time.”

I followed her into my bedroom, watching her change and put on her make up while taking care of myself in the middle of the bed. She caught me in the corner of her eye getting off, said some choice words in Catalan and smiled.

“You know I can only halfway understand you when you speak that,” I said.

“Understand this,” She said switching to Castellano, her Andaluz accent thick, “Couldn’t you have waited until after I left? You’re gross.”

“If you let me take care of it with you—”

“Yeah, yeah,” She grabbed her purse, “ _Adios_  Sergio,” She leaned over to kiss me goodbye, “I’m going to leave you alone to take care of that.”

“Want to do something after work today?”

Didn’t want her to leave quite yet.

“You already know my answer. I will see you later.”

Do not say it. It is far too soon for a  _te amo_.

“ _Ciao_ , Mari.”

* * *

**Meet me in front of the Prado at 5. María Carmen x**

She had sent the message at about 2 when I just finished practice. I hadn’t been to the Prado for a regular visit for ages. I wasn’t much of a museum guy, but I would do anything for Maricarmen including pretending to appreciate art. I suppose I could learn a few things. My Mama always complained that my place was too bare and needed to be decorated more.

I headed home for a proper Spanish lunch in front of my television just in time for the news. Nothing too interesting happened between two-thirty and four thirty. I’m not going to explain eating or getting dressed.

 I will, however, discuss who I ran into on the way to the Prado.

 I parked my car, looked at myself in the mirror about thirty times, and blew a kiss at my reflection. I put on my sunglasses in a very poor effort to hide my identity. I hoped that everyone was still in the middle of  _siesta_. It was almost five, and I was often in the middle of a nap but at this point I would stop any part of my routine for this girl.

 After taking a few pictures with some fifteen-year-old girls and nearly making it to the museum unnoticed, that’s when I saw her.

 Isabel Velázquez Santos.

 She was wearing a short black dress, gold heels, sunglasses and her long dark brown hair was blowing dramatically in the wind as if she was in the middle of a slightly tacky music video. I forgot how gorgeous she was. She had a large tote bag, and a look on her face very similar to the one I had most recently seen: the day she threw the stiletto at my head.

And then I remembered.

 Isa worked at the Prado. She studied Art History in university and was a curator. I wonder if she and Maricarmen ever ran into each other. I remembered Maricarmen telling me about a fundraiser she helped plan for the museum and how it was one of her favorite places in Madrid. She said she’d often come right before it closed to look at her favorite paintings, sometimes bringing the mini sketchbook she kept in her massive purse.

 I hoped that Isa wouldn’t notice me as I scanned the area for a sign of Maricarmen. I looked down at my phone and didn’t see any new messages.

 Walk quickly Sergio, and no eye contact.

 But the dress hit her body in all the right places.

 “Sergio? Is that you?”

 Oh no.

I looked around to find a secret entrance, group of people, or anywhere to disappear but at this point it wasn’t possible. Isa spotted me. She was probably watching me the entire time. Nope. Had to talk.

 “ _Hola_ , Isa,” I decided to give her two  _besitos_. This needed to be quick and cordial.

“What are you doing here?” She said, lifting up her glasses with her free hand.

“Meeting a friend, why?”

“I thought that you hated museums.”

I do, as well as shoes to the head.

“No—” and then I spotted Maricarmen approaching me, wearing a different dress than the one she left my apartment in this morning. It was navy blue. She had her hair tied to the side in a long braid, sunglasses, and a large white purse. She waved, and I smiled back at her.

Isa continued to talk, “So what have you been up to?”

“The usual. Football and not much else.”

“Oh, really? You know that I miss you.”

Can’t say the same. Maricarmen was getting closer and closer. I needed to get away from Isa.

“You do?” I decided to say, thinking of an exit strategy.

“Yeah. I’ve been really lonely,” She touched my hair, “I mean, I guess I was wrong about everything.”

“Really?” I am very eloquent.

“Yeah. I mean, I guess I just let my feelings get to me. I think that we could try again, and I’m serious this time.”

“You did. It was nice seeing you. I really need to—”

“Sergio!” Maricarmen said, interrupting Isa’s sentence and not even really paying any attention to her presence next to me.

Thank God she came when she did.

Or perhaps not. Although I was happy to see her, I did not expect her to kiss my lips. It felt good, yes, but it was the worst possible timing ever.

“Oh?” Said Isa.

“ _Lo siento_ , Sergio, were you speaking to her?” Said Maricarmen, turning back to look Isa up and down.

“I was. This is Isabel. Isabel, this is Maricarmen.”

“ _Mucho gusto_ ,” Said Maricarmen, giving Isa two kisses quickly, “How do you two know each other?”

“I was thinking the same thing about you,” Said Isa.

“You look very familiar,” Continued Maricarmen, “Did I interrupt anything?”

“No, we were just saying goodbye,” I said, really wanting to get away from Isa before anything happened.

If I had the stiletto to the face when I told Isa I didn’t love her, I couldn’t imagine what would happen when she realized I had already moved on and  _she_ was staring her right in the face.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sergio -**

I was sitting across from Maricarmen in her favorite bar, La Tortuga, which was quite close to her apartment between the line of  the neighborhoods of Huertas and Atocha. She didn’t live too far away from the Prado, and her place was in a very artsy and trendy part of town. I was happy to have a change of scenery. At the bar, we had both ordered a  _copa_  and tapas. The owners of this place were also from Andalucía, and I was anxious for the boquerones I had ordered to go along with my  _cerveza_. Maricarmen had arroz a la cubana, with a fried egg on top and a rebujito, a mix of sherry and 7Up that reminded me of summertime in Sevilla.

 “You remind me of home,” She said, kissing me quickly before we sat down, “And I’ve been waiting to do that since we left the museo.”

I was so happy to have left the Prado. It felt like an eternity, and I was afraid that Isa reappear. I knew that Isa lived on the other side of town, so she would hopefully not show up at this little bar that was playing a Segunda Liga football game on the television, had the occasional Sevillianas tune over the speakers, where the Andaluz accents were thick and Maricarmen was a regular. This place felt like home. I was relieved to be somewhere so cozy, where I didn’t feel the necessity to be the superstar defender, but just the guy from Sevilla with the pretty girl from Malaga.

It took a lot of effort to get from the museum to tapas, even at her favorite bar. Maricarmen was staring at the same painting for what felt like forever. I had to pretend to like it as much as she did, but had something completely different running through my head. I was trying to decide how quickly I could undress her as soon as we went to my place. I didn’t think I could make it that far. I may have to sacrifice my car. Not that many women have had the honor to take a ride in my car in it that way. I would make an exception for Maricarmen.

She had said something about how this was a Monet and it was detailed and all of these other things but I just kept thinking about her and Isa.

Fucking crazy former girlfriend with her stilettos and long dark hair that perfectly blended with her tanned skin. And that dress. I don’t know how she got away with that at work at the Prado. Dios mío. Why was I thinking about her? And then I imagined Mari and Isa at the same time. I bit my lip at the thought of both of them—

“Sergio?” Maricarmen squeezed my hand. She finally noticed that I didn’t really have as much as an interest in Monet, Goya, and the other dead guys that were in the museum.

“María Carmen?” I said, resisting kissing her because at any moment it would be a picture on someone’s camera phone and online.

“You’re acting weird, that’s all,” She continued, “Have you had enough of the Prado?”

Three weeks, and she could read my mind. Hopefully she couldn’t see all of my thoughts, especially the dirty ones that involved her, and now the ex-girlfriend. I had always wondered how it was to have three people at the same time, especially two of the most beautiful women in Madrid in my opinion. Maricarmen cut off the brief fantasy sequence in my head.

“Are you there? What is up with you?” She said, putting her hand on my forehead, “You are a little warm.  _Estás enferma_? Let’s go.”

“How did you know I was ready to leave?” I said, slightly jokingly but highly relieved.

“I’m surprised you lasted this long. You’re quite short at most things.”

“You weren’t saying that this morning,” I muttered.

“So, why did it take three times until it was good, Sergio?” She said, laughing a little and turning red. As much as Maricarmen liked to be in bed with me, I noticed that she often blushed when she talked about us physically.

“Mari, please. You enjoyed every minute of it. What did you say? Ayy, Sergio,  _dame más por favor_.” I rolled the last ‘r’ unnecessarily.

“Come on,” She said, finally walking away from the painting still tightly gripping my hand, “I’m taking you home so you can show me what you’ve got. And plus, you have questions to answer.”

We’re not gonna make it home, Mari, sorry. You left me hanging this morning. I don’t like finishing alone.

“ _Nena_ , what do you want to know?” I asked as we walked.

“Isa? Why did she make you so uncomfortable?”

“Did I tell you about my last girlfriend?”

“Nope.”

“Well, that’s her, Isabel Velazquez. She is crazy.”

“How so?” Maricarmen gave me the look like she was ready to sit down for a cafecito and listen to the entire long story about my failed relationship with Isa.

“She threw a stiletto at my head. There. I broke up with her and she started yelling. I asked her to leave, and then she took off her shoe and threw it at me. She did the whole, you never loved me Sergio, thing.”

My eyes were wide. I never really spoke to anyone about Isa, not even the guys. This was the abridged version of the story too. Perhaps I will elaborate on it later.

“She looked harmless to me. She’s gorgeous though. She looks like a model or something.”

Yes, she is. But, Maricarmen was ten times more. Isa looked like any pretty girl in Spain. Maricarmen was different. I had never seen a girl like her before, from the curls to her shade of brown, and the lonely freckle under her eye. She was the first person I had dated who made me feel comfortable, but also intimidated me a little bit. I liked that she was a tough catch.

“You’re more beautiful though.”

She rolled her eyes, “You’re just saying that because we’re almost outside.”

“No, I mean it. Really,  _Princesa_. And I’ll show you that I’m not making it up.”

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Game against Valencia, _recuerdas_?”

“That’s not until eight, so you can have a _copa_ and stop by my _piso_ , no?”

 If your _piso_ involves walking around in the little lacy things from this morning, of course.

 “Not too late, Mari,” I looked at my watch, it was nearly 8, “It’s early. We have plenty of time to do what we want to do.”

 Back in La Tortuga, I was making silly eyes at Maricarmen between destroying the plate of boquerones in front of me. The server realized who I was, asked for a picture, and brought me a media ración instead of the tapas portion I had asked for. She knew Maricarmen, whispered something in her ear, and then smiled at the both of us.

 “ _Chisme_?” I said, after she left, grabbing one of the small fish from my plate and putting the entire thing in my mouth.

“ _Bueno_ , that’s my friend Elisa. She’s still in school and works here part time. No real  _chisme_.”

“Did she know that you’re seeing me?”

“Perhaps?  _Dios mío_ , Sergio,” Maricarmen was blushing again, “I don’t know. What do you even call what we’re doing?”

 Lots of chatting, lots of sex, and a few dates in between? It’s only been three weeks. I had no idea how to answer her question.

“ _No sé_. Courtship?” More  _cerveza_.

“I think that we jumped over the whole courtship part on the first day.”

“Am I like your  _medio novio_?” At this rate, I would need another copa in a minute. Half boyfriend? I was watching too many trashy television shows at home.

“Sergio? What?”

“Like, I’m on my way to be your boyfriend, but I’m not quite there yet.”

“Okay, I get it,” She took one of my _boquerones_ , “Wait, are you properly asking me out?”

“Yes.”

“But no labels yet, but we’re going exclusive now?”

“Yes, Mari.”

“ _Bueno_ ,” She ate the fish, putting the bones back on my plate. I decided to take some of her  _arroz_  so I wouldn’t have to say anything myself.

If we were moving towards being a normal couple, we needed to have regular conversations. We had started this thing where we would ask each other five questions before we could do anything physical (kisses didn’t count). Because our relationship started a little backwards, this was the best way to try to move past being just her half  _novio_  to feeling like the real thing. We had both already complained about work in the Prado among other things, so I think we were down to about two questions of the day.

“Mari, why do you speak Catalan if you’re from Malaga?” I had been waiting to ask her this question since we started going out. I was quickly becoming frustrated with her screaming things in the language when we had sex. I could only halfway understand from my time on  _La Roja_  and my teammates.

“Long story short, my mother is from Barcelona and my Papá learned it because he was in love with her and wanted to impress her.”

She gave me the, ‘perhaps you should consider doing the same thing,’ look. The next time I had national team practice, I decided I would be nice to some of the Barça guys so they could teach me a few things.

“But you speak English pretty well too. I hear you speaking to Leah on your phone when you don’t think I’m listening.”

My English is terrible. Perhaps she could tutor me.

For every word I get right, I get to take off a piece of her clothing.

I would be close to fluent in no time.

“My bisabuelitos left for England during the war because they were rebels—you really don’t need to hear my life story because it’s not that exciting.”

“No, it really is.”

“Okay. So, they moved when my Abuelo was little so he was essentially raised British and married a British Caribbean lady, who is my Nana. Long story short, I would go to visit them every summer in London for a couple weeks. We had English and Catalan school every week from when we were little. My brain thinks in three languages at the same time; it’s so weird. If I’m ever angry with you, be prepared to hear an odd mix of all three.“

“Do you speak any other languages?”

“Andaluz.” She took two _boquerones_ from my plate, and smiled, “And a little Portuguese. Andaluz is most useful, I mean it is the best form of Spanish, no?”

“I know, isn’t it? Like I bet you that half of the people in Madrid can’t understand us.”

“It’s true. Can I tell you something?”

“I’m ready,” I took more of her  _arroz_.

“I really, really like you Sergio.”

Oh yeah? I like you to, a whole lot María Carmen.

“Mari, I really, really, really like you.”

“One more  _copa_  and you can show me how much you like me?”

Oh yes, Maricarmen, I can’t wait for you to take me home. I needed to take my mind off of the game tomorrow and of course Isa.

Perhaps I needed two more drinks before we went to Maricarmen’s place.

And I didn’t know if we would even make it to the car because the thought of her, and the frustration I was feeling from running into Isa was killing me. It was only a matter of time…


	6. Chapter 6

**Sergio -**

“You were so adorable.”

I held one of Maricarmen’s photos in my hands. She was about seven and dressed in full flamenco clothes—flowers, pearls, big earrings, and even a fan. I noticed the same smile that she had on her face right now, minus a few teeth in the front. She took the picture in the red frame from my hands. In our three weeks of seeing each other, this was the first time that I had been inside her apartment.

“That was my first competition,” She said, looking at the picture and smiling at the little version of her, “Mamá had put me in something girly. I was convinced I would play for Malaga’s first team in football. I’m still pretty good, you know. I could probably get past you.”

“Please. I didn’t know that you danced.”

“Sergito, we’ve known each other intimately for three weeks,” She widened her eyes, “You know what I mean.”

“I do, but are you still good?”

“At football or at dancing like a little old lady from Malaga?”

“Both.”

“I’m still brilliant at everything, of course. I’ll show you some moves, only if you help me.”

“I can’t dance. And I don’t really remember the steps.”

“Please. I know that you can. I’ve seen you after a few  _copas_.”

“I only had a couple, so I’m not going to.”

“Just do the first part with me. Come on,” She whined, “ _Por favor_. Leah brought me to a party at your place, some of the guys started playing typical stuff from Sevilla and you were a mess.” She laughed a bit, “But it was cute.”

“You win. Only because I like you.”

More like am obsessed with you because you are the most amazing woman I have ever been with even though it’s far too soon to tell you that because you’ll think that I’m crazy.

She put the picture back on the table, “Take my lead, and you’ll remember everything, okay? And, let’s go.”

She started moving and I followed the steps I knew pretty well from when I was little. We moved closer and closer until we finished the first part of the dance, where our eyes were locked. I blinked to ruin the moment.

“Ayy, Sergio,” She said, now facing me, arms around my neck, “You’re actually really good.”

“You forgot an important part, Maricarmen.”

“How? I can do this in my sleep.”

“The part where you kiss me at the end. Let me show you how you do it.”

 I kissed Maricarmen, taking in her scent that was a mix of honey and vanilla, she was sweet and her lips were so soft. Every time I was this close to her, I felt every nerve in my body warm up from excitement and relief that she hadn’t found a reason to get rid of me yet.

“Do you want to be my dance partner now? I’ve been looking for a new one. You should come to my class with some of my babies one day,” She said.

“You have a class?”

What didn’t she do?

“Kind-of. It’s small, on the side. Little kids who my  _Tias_  set me up with whose parents are from the south. Trying to keep the culture alive, and make a few extra Euros.” She looked away, “But yeah, it’s nice to have them. They practice so hard and are adorable. Besides, they would all freak out to see you there, especially because you’re good.”

“I’m not.”

“You are, and I wouldn’t lie to you especially because you kiss so well,” She blushed a little, “I mean—”

“Mari, it’s okay. We kiss and it’s normal, and you always get so embarrassed when you talk about us. It’s fine because I’m your half boyfriend, remember? I’ve noticed this about you.”

As well as my long list of other things that I obsess over about her, from the way she laughs, to the line in the middle of her forehead that forms when she’s upset, and of course the freckle and now those bluebells that I was anxious to get to tonight.

Behave, Sergio.

She laughed loudly now, “You and the half boyfriend thing, _Dios mío_ , and you’re serious. Do I have to call you that when I talk to the girls? Oh my  _medio novio_ , he’s taking me to dinner tonight. No, he’s not my full one yet, we’re only 50% official.”

“Call me what you want to,” I said, now thinking how ridiculous the idea was myself.

“Do you want the rest of the tour here? I’ll give you the quick version,” She said taking my hand, “I know it’s not like your place, but it is quite nice.”

“I’m yours.”

“Okay. So, you’re obviously in my living room, connected to my very nice porch that is perfect for people watching and a glass of wine. Over there is the kitchen, there is a dining room attached to it on the other side. I spend a lot of time in there eating, but you’ve seen all kitchens if you’ve seen one. Okay, so now we can go to one of the most important rooms in my apartment.

Are we on the same page?

I followed her lead, down the hallway covered in artwork (I noticed a print of one of the Monet’s we saw at the Prado. I was so happy that I didn’t call him Moe-Net.) and a couple framed family pictures with her siblings. We got to the last room in the hallway, and she slowly opened the door.

Yes. The bedroom.

We are so much alike it’s not even funny.

“I wasn’t expecting you, so it’s a little messy,” She said, holding my hand more tightly. She had a very strong grip. I noticed this my first night with her from some of the marks I discovered on my torso the next morning.

So, you have a few dresses on the bed? Let’s just put them on the floor and begin,  _nena_.

“You have never seen messy before if this is what you think is messy, Mari.”

“I’m just not used to having people like you over.”

“Do you want me to be honest with you right now?”

“Why?” Her eyes looked worried.

“This,” I said, holding her close and kissing her, closing my eyes, and taking in her touch and taste.

“Oh. I suppose I did leave you waiting this morning,” She said, her face still close to mine.

“You can make up for it now.”

“How so?” She continued, unbuttoning the top two buttons on my shirt.

“First, this,” I said, slipping my hand under her dress, “I want to see the bluebells.”

“Only if I can see yours down here,” She said, touching my lower stomach.

So, she wanted to see  _the_  tattoo. Then I remembered, we did see a lot of each other when it was very dark.

“Yours first, Mari,” I said, now being greedy and slipping my fingers between the lace and her skin. She still had on the black lacey things from this morning. Yes, yes, yes, I thought in my head and it was probably all over my face because she laughed a bit.

“Sergio?”

I was too busy imagining what she looked like under the little dress and the million things I wanted to do to her.

“Sergio?” She said again, rolling her eyes, “You are so weird sometimes.”

“I’m not. Dress off, please,” I said, wanting to finish the task I started.

And I let my thoughts out without processing how forward I sounded.

“Shirt off, please,” She said, mocking me, now sliding my shirt off my shoulders.

I followed her movement.

Well, not really. I found the zipper on her back, unzipped it quickly, and then slid the dress from her shoulders.

I planted a kiss on her right one, and continued up her neck, moving to her lips again. I counted how many I did in my head. It took six, and I ended looking her straight into her eyes.

“We always do everything else but what we want to do,” She said, running her fingers through my hair.

She liked it long. I would delay the haircut I was considering. It could wait.

“But, there’s something we haven’t tried yet,” She continued, unbuckling my belt, unzipping the pants and being extremely touchy.

Oh?

María Carmen, what are you hinting at?

I was in for quite a pleasant surprise and definitely wouldn’t be getting to bed early like I was supposed to for the next day.

* * *

**Maricarmen -**

I had a million things that had to go right tonight.

One of my clients was hosting a huge charity event slash fashion launch at the Prado, and of course my boss assigned me to make sure that everything was absolutely perfect. I sometimes hated being a publicist, but then I liked it because I was able to rub shoulders with the rich and glamorous for a certain number of hours everyday. It also required early mornings, late nights, many weekends at work, and sacrificing  _siestas_ , one of my favorite things about being Spanish.

My older sister Laura, who is a doctor, tells me all the time that I work too much. Although I have time for some fun, I haven’t had much time to have much of a personal life. Everything in her life has fallen into place so beautifully. It was always so easy for her to critique my personal life because she met her very perfect husband, Andres, in medical school. I had a few recent hook-ups, yes, but nothing really felt right. I’d fool around with a very pretty man for a couple weeks, and then break it off claiming I was too busy at work.

That was all until my best friend Leah set me up with  _him_.

 _He_  felt like he would be both the beginning and the end of everything I’ve been working so hard for and exactly what I needed at the same time.

I arrived at work this morning slightly late because I had a longhaired boy in my bed begging me to stay ten minutes later than I had planned. Ten minutes turned into twenty, because he had me out of my clothes before I could even finish getting dressed for work. I suppose that the rich and highly famous don’t have to worry about arriving to work on time. My boss had emailed me the night before telling me she had some exciting news that she wanted to give me first thing in the morning. I didn’t give it much thought because she had sent it while I was holding hands with Sergio in the Prado, pretending that I was more interested in the art instead of his smile.

I felt like everyone was staring at me from my walk through my apartment complex’s courtyard to the Metro and eventually my office in the business district. I walked into my floor to be greeted by a few awkward smiles by the obnoxious American and British girls that worked on my floor. They happened to be standing by the front desk, drinking Starbucks (who does that here?) and reading something that the secretary, Ana had at her desk.

“Hello?” I said in English, wishing I had actually bought a €3 cup of watered down coffee myself, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing really. Are you going to the event at the Prado tonight?” Asked the blonde British girl. Her name was Kristen and no one could really pronounce her name correctly (I called her Krees-tin just to be annoying. I only used my pseudo British accent when I needed to.)

“Or will you be at the Real Madrid game?” Added the American, Madison. Yet another name very difficult to say in a Spanish accent (I could never get this one right. Mahh-dee-son? I always had to end her name as if I was asking a question.)  

“I’ve been working for this event for weeks. It’s really important to me—wait, why would I be at the Real game anyway?”

“Aren’t you best friends with Cristiano Ronaldo’s fiancée?” Continued Madison.

“Leah? Yes.”

And sleeping with Sergio Ramos, but that’s my business.

“Right.”

She definitely wasn’t satisfied with my answer. The three of them looked at each other and were internally giggling together.

“I’m going to get settled—Carlota said she had something to discuss with me today so I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

I walked past them and felt my stomach sink. In my department I was technically the fourth most important person because I had my own big office with a nice view of the city and an espresso machine with an endless supply of Nescafe.

I put my workbag down on my large black office chair in the corner, and sat on the Pilates ball in front of my desk that my sister Laura sent me. I’m pretty sure that she was convinced that better posture would make it more likely for me to find a good boyfriend. Instead of a note of things to do from my assistant, there were two magazines opened on my desk. They were copies of both  _Hola_  and  _Tu_. I was greeted by a large picture of me kissing Sergio in front of the restaurant where we had lunch a few days ago wearing a large pair of sunglasses. The other had a series of pictures from the Prado the night before. We were holding hands outside the museum, hugging, and talking about something that looked quite important in the third. I wondered how much the photographer made for the pictures and also which of the people outside had placed these on my desk. Both magazines said the same thing: ‘Who is Sergio Ramos’ new love interest?’

She is a woman who wants to kill her coworkers for putting these on her desk.

Before I could even stuff the magazines in my desk, there was a knock on my door.

“ _Si_?” I said, trying to sound normal and sliding the magazines under a stack of folders on my desk.

The door opened, and it was no one else but my boss, Carlota, awkwardly smiling at me and looking stunning as usual. “ _Hola_ , María Carmen.  _Qué tal_?” She said, sitting at the chair opposite of my desk.

“ _Bien—_ “

“I see that you’ve been very busy.”

“Yes, I have. I’m so excited about our event tonight. I think that it is going to go extremely well. I really think that it’s great that we’ll be able to promote Adriana’s new line and that she agreed that giving it a philanthropic angle is going to get us the publicity we really need to get this project going. Giving back to the Prado was such a brilliant idea.”

I noticed that I was bouncing a little too much on the Pilates ball.

“I actually had a question for you regarding a new project.”

“Okay.” I felt a little hesitant.

“I thought that you’d be excited about this one, María. So, we’ve gotten an offer to do some projects for Real Madrid. Their people are really impressed with some of our campaigns and are looking to extend their promotions within their English-speaking fan base. I thought that you would be the perfect person for this project, especially because of your knowledge of football and English.”

You’ve got to be kidding.

She kept speaking, “I’ll have more information about the projects in a few days, but I just wanted to give you a heads up and see if you’d be able to do it—especially because, you know.”

I know what?

“I’m really interested, but what do you mean?”

“María, it’s everywhere.”

 _Joder_.

“Are you talking about—”

She saw the corner of the overly large  _Hola_  under my folders, and pulled it out, “I’m not really sure of what this is about, but if you sign onto this project you need to be a lot more aware of who is taking pictures of you.”

“You put those there?” I said, feeling betrayed. We weren’t great friends, no, but I wouldn’t expect that from Carlota at all—especially because I knew that she had fooled around with a few very attractive footballers from gossiping with Leah. Allegedly from office  _chisme_ , Carlota’s team of choice was Atletico Madrid.

“No, I didn’t. I picked one up on my way to work and saw you were in here. But as someone who has—” She paused, searching for the word, “Experienced seeing high profile people, I would just suggest that you’re careful, that’s all. Just make sure that you protect your heart María…and you work in publicity, so you know how we operate. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

She sounded like my older sister. I didn’t expect a lecture on my love life to accompany my morning meeting with my boss.

“Anything else?”

“Not really. I was going to let you know that we were going to begin making a media press kit through interviewing a few of the players. I was thinking Cristiano Ronaldo, perhaps Mesut Ozil, Sergio Ramos, I don’t know. This is where I need your help.”

Even the sound of his name made me feel excited, anxious, and nervous all at the same time.

“In English?”

“We could definitely dub it over if we needed to, or ask very simple questions.”

If it involved Sergio, the English would need to be very easy.

“I can come up with something as soon as Adriana’s event is over. I definitely think I want to do it, but I need time to think Carlota.”

“That’s fine. I just wanted to check in with you, that’s all María.”

Carlota got up, leaving with the sound of her Manolo’s clicking against my floor.

“ _Gracias_.  _Ciao_.”

The only thing I could think to do right now was make a double espresso, do some investigating, and plot how to get the obnoxious twins from my department for putting the magazines on my desk.

* * *

“ _Hola!_  What’s your name again? I ran into you yesterday.”

I was finally grabbing a glass of sparkling wine after a night of running around making sure that everything was absolutely perfect. The Prado was beautiful, as was my client Adriana and the models she was using to promote her line. I decided to purchase a dress from her store, a one-shouldered black number with silver accents to match the pair of Jimmy Choo’s I found on sale while in New York with my sister (I loved the power of the Euro to the American dollar for reasons like this). I decided to take a very long sip when I saw her approach me. I immediately recognized her from her long dark hair and greenish brown eyes. She was dressed in white, wearing gold heels and looked like a Greek goddess.

Or I suppose a Spanish one.

Isabel Velázquez, we meet again.

“Maricarmen Navas de la Cruz,” I said, being friendly and giving her two kisses.   
“This is really nice. How come you’re here?” Asked Isa, grabbing her glass of wine from the bar.

“I helped plan the event. Adriana is one of my clients. I’m happy that you’re enjoying it,” I said fakely, trying to think of how I would escape from this very awkward situation.

“Oh. It’s nice that you incorporated the Prado with her designs.”

“Yeah. She really makes the artwork come to life in her dresses.”

Can we stop speaking now?

“How did you meet him?” She slipped in.

“Who?”

Who do you think, María?

“Sergio. You were with him last night.”

“We’re just friends.”

“I’m not stupid.”

“It’s nothing too serious.”

“I saw you kiss him, right in front of me. That wasn’t a friendly kiss.”

I didn’t know what to say to her because it was true. I did kiss him in front of her, but I had no idea who she was. I didn’t know that  _la diosa_ , was  _her_ , the shoe throwing ex-girlfriend who Sergio wouldn’t really tell me about but every now and again would mention the stiletto that almost hit him in the face.

“Sorry—it’s just that, he never looked at me the way he was looking at you,” She continued.

More sparkling wine.

“Isa, you know. I don’t really know what to say but—”

Saved by fashion designer who came behind me and tapped my shoulder.

“You’re the fabulous Maricarmen?” Said Adriana, as I turned and had to face two very sloppy, slightly drunk  _besitos_  on my cheeks, “And who is this  _guapa_  with you?”

“Adriana,  _hola_. This is—” I hesitated, “Isa.”

“How beautiful. I wish that I would have seen you two before we planned the fashion show tonight—you know what? I’m going to put you two in anyway.”

“What?” Said Isa and me simultaneously. This went from awkward encounter between the present and former love interests, to a very high profile designer asking us to be in her show that was about to happen in fifteen minutes. I wish that I had about three glasses of wine by now. Instead I was essentially sober and stuck in a very awkward situation.

“Adriana,  _muchas gracias_ , but I don’t think that we can be in your show. I’m just here to make sure that everything goes smoothly, people are interested in the new line, and they donate money to your charity. I’m no model,” I said.

“But you are. You’re so tall and beautiful and wearing one of my dresses right now. Come on,” She said, “ _Mira_ , you do this and I’ll tell your boss that you deserve a very long vacation for planning the most perfect event for me. Get your friend to do it too.”

One week at Sergio’s apartment,  _vale mujer_ , I’m down. I suppose I could squeeze in time to go to Málaga and visit my family too.

Isabel is no friend of mine, but believe whatever you want.

I looked at Isa, forced a smile, and said, “Done. I’ll walk.”

* * *

I’m used to being on a stage. I’m a dancer, so I have nothing to be afraid of—minus all of the cameras that seem to be quite interested in me lately. I tried to keep my dancing confidence in my head as I waited behind the makeshift stage we somehow created in the main lobby of the Prado between the classic artwork. I imagined that Isabel Velázquez wanted to kill me in more ways than one now. Not only did I steal her former boyfriend, but also I was using her as part of my plan to spend more time with him.

I checked my phone and saw that it was nearly midnight. Everything was running a little behind schedule, but it was okay because we’re in Spain and we always run a little late. It’s better that way. My natural makeup was now substituted for very dramatic, glittery high fashion catwalk style. I was able to keep on my original clothes, the black and silver dress with my favorite silver heels. “Darling, just don’t trip,” Said Adriana’s assistant before he pushed me onto the stage, “Just walk, look fierce, and don’t fall.”

I’ve been walking in heels since I was a baby, sweetheart.

I walked out onto the stage, head up, and was greeted by lots of flashes. I wasn’t used to this much attention on me, especially when I was wearing a tiny one-shouldered dress. I kept walking, trying to imitate the movement of the other girls I had seen before me wearing some of the more eclectic fashions I had witnessed tonight. I was so happy I had picked out this dress myself.

Pose, pose, smile for the cameras, turn, walk back.

Breathe, Mari, you’ve won yourself at least an extra long weekend.

Instead of being greeted by Isabel Velázquez giving me the death stare I imagined she gave to Sergio the day she threw the stiletto, I was staring at my  _medio novio_.

He was wearing a blazer, silver tie, dark wash jeans, and grey Converse, smiling.

“Mari, you didn’t tell me that you model.”

“I don’t. Sergio, how did you get here?”

“I came right after the game—Cristiano and Mesut are here too, but I didn’t know if we could all be back here.”

“Here,” I let him hug me and gave him a kiss, “How did you make it so quickly?”

“Don’t worry about it. Everything is so beautiful in here—how did you put a catwalk in the Prado?”

“We promised to donate a portion of the money we make tonight to the museum.”

“So they can buy more Monet?”

“If they want to. You’re such a nerd.”

“That’s one of the only times anyone has called me that.”

“Well, it’s true.”

“Whatever,” He took my hand, “When can you leave?”

“Soon. My job is just to make sure everything is smooth, it’s almost over and then we can do whatever you want.”

“Want to go dancing?”

“You’ve read my mind. You know what?“ I saw Isa out of the corner of my eye, "Let’s get out of here as soon as possible. Find the guys and wait for me outside.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Maricarmen -**

I walked into the office with my hair braided into a bun, my massive sunglasses, and possibly one of the worst hangovers in history. All I wanted to do was curl into a ball on the couch in my office and wake up when it was time to leave to go home for lunch.

Adriana’s event was an extreme success. We created hype for her new fashion line, raised money for her charity and the Prado, and I was hoping that my boss Carlota would be rewarding me with an extra week of vacation. Sergio surprised me showing up to my event with a couple of the guys after their game. He posed with me for a few pictures for some paparazzi of some sort, at the time I didn’t care because I had a slight buzz from the cocktails I had to have the nerves to walk the catwalk in the dress I had bought specifically for the event. I also needed it because Sergio’s ex-girlfriend, the very gorgeous Isabel Velázquez who worked at the Prado, was there. I have to admit that she’s absolutely beautiful and I understand why Sergio was in love with her. I’d be in love with her too.

I spent a few hours dancing at the club with Sergio and the guys, which turned into more drinks, some very public kisses, perhaps sneaking out on the patio to do a couple inappropriate things, and eventually going to Sergio’s place for the rest of the night. As soon as we got inside, my clothes were off and we had a very dirty sex session on his rooftop balcony, falling asleep under the stars. I woke up as the sun rose cuddled against Sergio’s body, disoriented because I was outside and had a gigantic headache.

I made him get up to take a shower with me (well a little more than a shower) and then decided that I should probably get ready to go to work. It required a lot more effort than I wanted to including trying to cover the marks from around my neck and try to get the hangover face to go away. My eyes were still bloodshot and my stomach was turning in knots. Sergio obviously has an iron stomach and a tolerance of a million because he drank probably twice as much as I did and seemed okay. He made me a sandwich with  _huevos fritos_  to take to work because the thought of eating anything made me feel sick all over again. I did manage to drink one of the many bottles of Aquarius in Sergio’s refrigerator because the only thing I could tolerate was slightly salty, lemon flavored sports drink. I considered staying home, but found enough energy to go to the office after a few kisses and changing into my spare dress that I decided to keep at Sergio’s for the nights that I spent at his place. I quickly got over the ‘doing things too soon’ feeling that I had at the beginning.

When one is in a rush, they cannot be picky. I grabbed a €1 cup of café con leche from the McDonalds (or America as I called it to Leah) by my office and walked into the building not wanting to speak to anyone. I just needed to make it to 2pm so I could go home and sleep all day.

Wait. I had to teach my dance class this afternoon, and then I would sleep again and hopefully see Sergio. Sergio had promised he would visit my girls, so I would invite him to come to my class as soon as I got to my office and shut the door. Do not let your culture down, Maricarmen.

And there they were, my co-workers in their usual position, staring at me as I took my sunglasses off my face and stuffed them into my massive purse. Kristen, Madison, and the secretary Ana were all huddled around her computer and blankly stared at me as I walked in.

“ _Buenos días_ ,” Said Kristen, holding her large American sized cup of coffee (how did this girl pay her rent when she had Starbucks every single day!?).

“ _Hola_ , what are you three doing?” I said, leaning against the front of the desk.

“Nothing.”

“What are you reading?”

“Pictures from you event last night. They’re everywhere.”

Oh, that’s nothing? Okay.

“ _En serio_?” I leaned over to look at the screen and saw a picture of Adriana and some of the models.

“Yeah, have you seen this one?” Said Ana, clicking to the thumbnails and then enlarging a picture of Sergio and me. We looked so cozy together, “The caption says Real Madrid player Sergio Ramos and new model María Carmen Navas de la Cruz after the fashion show at Adriana Lopez’s charity launch of her new summer line called Mallorca, inspired by the culture of the island.

“They think I’m a model?” I said laughing a bit, “That’s funny.”

“There’s some more too,” She clicked one of her saved tabs to show a series of pictures of me with Sergio at the club, looking a little less elegant. One included me kissing his cheek. Another photo was of me with a few of the footballers looking highly comfortable because I had to be slightly drunk. I was cuddled a little too closely between Cristiano and Sergio in one photo, another was me fully kissing him, and the last was me leaving the club holding hands with Sergio. Who was this photographer? I needed to find them and kill him personally. I felt even more sick.

 _Joder_.

“You were busy last night, weren’t you?” Said Madison.

 _Chica_ , we aren’t friends like that.

“I was, I mean, how did you find those pictures?”

Stupid question.

“The internet. We saw that the Adriana event has lots of pictures floating around on the internet, and I discovered these other pictures of you. Everyone is trying to figure out who you are. There are lots of tweets and comments,” Said Kristen, “You’re famous now, Maricarmen.”

“Oh?” I pulled out my iPhone to find five messages from people including my sister, Leah, and Sergio. This was all too much for me, “I’ll be in my office if you need me.”

Goodbye job, promotion, and extra vacation.

I opened my office, threw my workbag on the couch, and sat on the Pilates ball putting my head on the desk. I was trying to think of a good story to tell my boss who would probably stop by pretty soon. I decided that I would do some investigating until she came to my office, searching for the website that had the pictures of me kissing Sergio on it.

I looked at my phone and read the messages.

Number one, my sister: **María Carmen, you did NOT tell me that this thing with Sergio Ramos was this serious. Really, _hermanita_ , you’re all over the internet making out with him. Good for you, but seriously!? I’m calling you tonight. **

Number two, Leah: **I didn’t know you were a model. I thought that we were best friends.**

Number three, technically an email from my boss Carlota: **María Carmen, I’ll be stopping by to discuss the event last night. It was a hit!**

Number four, Sergio:  **Nena, feel better <3 Let me know how work is.  
**

Number five, Sergio: **And have you seen these pictures? Ten different people have texted them to me.**

Before I could even get settled there was a knock at the door.

“ _Si_ ,” I grumbled, wishing I was in bed and could pull the covers over my head and go to sleep.

“It’s Carlota, María,” Said my boss on the other side. Stopping by happened to be right now? Then again, I was late to work.

“Come in.” I said, minimizing the window on my computer.

“How are you, mysterious model?” Said Carlota, sitting in the chair across from my desk, “You did an amazing job last night. Have you seen all the articles about Adriana’s event?”

“Unfortunately yes,” I said.

“Why unfortunately? I was coming in to tell you that this is wonderful not only for us and Adriana, but for you. People have been trying to figure out who you are and want you for modeling gigs, including Adriana herself. She wants you to do a spread for the Ibiza line.”

All I wanted to do was spread out in the bed and sleep. Nothing was making sense.

Carlota continued to speak, “And she called this morning because she saw the photos of you and Sergio Ramos from the event and thought that the both of you looked perfect together. She said that she could picture you modeling with him for a poster campaign, and she really liked your friend too.”

A few of my friends were at the event, but none of them were modeling. It took a few seconds for me to process who she was talking about. It must have been Sergio’s ex-girlfriend. She is even coming up in discussion at work!

“Isa? We’re not friends. Anyway, are you serious about the modeling thing?”

“Yes. And she wants us to continue working on the project as she expands the line. Today Spain, tomorrow the rest of Europe and eventually fashion week in New York—and this can definitely include you both on our PR team as well as a high fashion model.”

“Yeah. You know, I’m really exhausted from everything last night,” I said, because it was mostly true. I was also tired from a long list of other things that were my business, “And I think I really need to process everything you just said. I really don’t think I’m cut out to be a high fashion model. I’m a girl from Malaga who happens to promote and plan things very well.”

“Look, Maricarmen. If you do this modeling thing, lock in the deal with Adriana’s line, I will give you an extra two weeks off, paid vacation. Do whatever you want, follow that footballer around that I keep seeing you in the papers with, I don’t care. I won’t even email you for anything. Two weeks.”

“This means I can’t eat anything good for weeks then,” I said thinking out loud, “And I actually need to go to the gym when I’m supposed to.”

“Two weeks now and an extra week during Christmas.”

“No emails?”

“Yes.”

I didn’t need to think anymore.

“Done—as long as there’s no nudity. And I’m serious.”

“Promise. And you don’t look well. I think that you should go home and rest.”

“No, I’m fine—” I lied.

“No, really,” She insisted, “Go home so you’re ready to work bright and early tomorrow.”

“Fine.”

“Thanks, Maricarmen.” Said Carlota, getting up and leaving my office. I pictured the three outside my office trying to figure out what just happened.

So, there are pictures of me making out with Sergio online, my boss acted like they were nothing because I’ve made a great impression on a big client, and she wants me to do a poster campaign?  _No comprendo_.

My life wasn’t making any sense at all, but for some reason I was happy to be living the chaotic reality that it was.

* * *

**Sergio -**

I didn’t realize how intimidating an entire group of eight-year-old girls were until I was standing in the middle of one. Yes, I had my niece, but that was just one little person. Today, there were six of them, staring at me in frightening shades of pink, purple, and turquoise, wearing tiny heels, whispering and giggling. I didn’t know what I gotten myself into, but I did promise Maricarmen that I would show up to her dance class tonight. 

Although I had made this promise to her before, she had offered me a new deal for spending 75 minutes with her girls: whatever I wanted. I’m pretty sure that she already knew that ‘whatever’ involved the little lacy things that she always happened to wear when she spent the night at my place. I couldn’t think about that right now, because I had to be an adult and on my best behavior in front of the little girls who were probably more concerned about glitter and begging their mothers to stop for a bag of  _dulces_  after class than why I was rather awkwardly interrupting their class.

 “ _Chicas_ , behave. We have a lot of work to do for the competition next week and I brought someone to help me today,” Said Maricarmen in front of the girls at the studio. She was dressed in a tight tank top and shorts with her hair tied back in a high bun and a pair of black heels. She also had a blue flower pinned in her hair. I noticed her flamenco skirt (also blue) sitting behind her and had a few ideas run through my mind. Back to reality, “This is my friend Sergio.”

“ _Hola_ Sergio,” They all said in unison. A few of them began to giggle, covering their mouths and turning a little red. I imagined that I was turning a little red too. I could feel my face warm up a bit. My niece would be laughing at her Tío so badly right now. I had to take a picture of this and send it home and of course, put it on my Twitter.

“Don’t you play football?” Said one of them, dressed in purple. She reminded me of a mini version of Isa, with dark brown hair and green eyes that were very unforgiving. Her hands were on her hips.

“Yeah, you’re Sergio Ramos and play for Real Madrid,” Added another, this one was in pink stripes.

“He’s from Sevilla,” Said a third, turquoise and pigtails, “So is my family, and he’s cute. Do you think he’s cute too Señorita Mari?” She covered her mouth as one of the other girls nudged her a little too hard.

“That’s enough. Julia, for your information, I don’t find him to be cute at all,” Said Maricarmen smiling at me, causing the minis to burst into giggles again, “Anyway, Sergio who plays football for Real Madrid and is from Sevilla knows how to dance Sevillanas just like you guys and is going to dance with me to help show you how to dance with a boy partner, because some of you will be dancing with boys for the competition coming up soon,  _vale_?”

“Is he your boyfriend?” Asked the pigtailed one, Julia, that had just called me cute.

“Julia,  _por favor_.”

“Mamá showed me your picture on  _Hola_  magazine and you’re with him a lot, so he  _is_  your boyfriend,” Continued the one in the pigtails, or Julia. I could tell she would be a handful in ten years.

“Yeah, you were in there this week. Are you famous now? Can you take us to Hollywood because you’re famous?” Said the one in purple, “Or to New York?”

I noticed there was a very small girl standing in the very back of the brightly colored, overly excited bunch. She was staring at me with her eyes nearly as wide as her tiny face with her mouth open.

“I am not taking anyone to Hollywood or New York, nor am I famous, girls,” Said Maricarmen, “Actually, we’re being really rude right now. Let me introduce all of them right now. You already know Julia, María Elena, and Marisa. That’s Beatriz, Elisa, and Alba. Some people in our class are a little more respectful than others, aren’t we?”

“Are those real?” Interrupted one of the girls, let’s see, that one was Marisa.

“What?” Answered Maricarmen for me. She was quickly becoming irritated. I could tell from the line forming on her forehead.

“The tattoos. Can I touch it? My Mami says that I’m not allowed to have one until I’m thirty.”

“ _Señorita_ Mari, do you have a tattoo?”

I began to laugh and Maricarmen gave me a death stare. I stopped and awkwardly smiled.

I thought of the bluebells on her hip, the ones that I planned on kissing when I took her home.

“No,” She said, “No more questions, get your skirts on, and come on  _por favor chicas_.”

“But you didn’t let Sergio dance for us,” Whined the sassy one, Julia, “ _Por favor_.”

“Actually, you are going to dance for him first. I want to see Alba and Julia, since you’re so talkative today first. No whining, put on your skirts and I’ll tell you when to start.”

“ _Señorita_ —”

“Now.”

I was fascinated, watching the little girls dance so well. They were like mini professionals, moving to the music and remembering all of the steps that I often confused when I went home for a wedding or party with some of the older members of my family. They finished and went into a bout of giggles again, bowing for the rest of the class that began clapping for them. I did too, said “Olé!” with a smile, and nudged Maricarmen a bit, wanting her to lighten up a little. I knew that she took her small army of large skirt wearing girls seriously, but she was clearly stressed out by how they were behaving.

“Now we want to see you do it.” Said Julia with a little bit of sass. For some reason I liked this little girl regardless of how obnoxious she was. 

“ _Lista_?” I said to Maricarmen, “ _Vamos a bailar_?”

“ _Bueno_ , let’s show them how it’s done. Music  _por favor_.”

Dancing with María Carmen is beyond words can explain. I had fooled around with her, dancing a bit in her living room, but here in her element where she was wearing her skirt and moving so gracefully and seriously I really appreciated this traditional dance for the first time. It was something that I was previously forced to do by my cranky Tías in Sevilla, but now dancing with someone that I was in love with—yes, in love,  _estoy enamorado_ , I felt like I really got it for the first time. I would be calling my dearest great Tía to tell her. We ended the song, eyes locked, and it took every piece of effort in my body not to kiss her. It was the perfect moment to, but there were twelve eyes watching us.

“Is this the part where you kiss the boy?” Said Julia.

“No, it’s not. It is absolutely not,” Said Maricarmen, separating herself from me by a few steps, “Since when have we ever discussed kissing boys in the dance?”

“Never.”

“Exactly. Skirts, everyone, now, please,” She then looked at me, “Thank you Sergio, you are the absolute best.”

“No problem,” I said, resisting telling her  _te amo_. It was going to slip out soon.

I needed to tell her before it was too late.

* * *

**Maricarmen -**

“Those little girls are absolutely frightening,” Said Sergio, sitting across from me on the floor eating noodles out of a white take-out box with chop sticks. 

After the hangover of the century, I went home to take a nap until I needed to prepare for my dance class. I taught six little girls traditional dances from home, more specifically Sevillanas and Flamenco. One of my  _tias_  was a competitive flamenco dancer, so I have been walking around in baby heels and very large skirts ever since I could walk.

“I thought that you spent a lot of time with little girls,” I said between stuffing a shrimp cracker into my mouth. I could tell I was nearly completely comfortable around him at this point because I didn’t feel like I needed to be on pins and needles every second with him. Emphasis on the nearly, because there was something about him that still made me nervous.

“I spend a lot of time around one little girl, not six of them.”

“They aren’t that bad. You just have to bribe them sometimes to get what you want.”

“They asked me to kiss you, Mari.”

“They’re convinced that any guy that steps foot in that studio is my boyfriend, Sergio. My brothers were here for a weekend and stopped by the class and they asked if they were both my boyfriends. They are sixteen.”

“So I’m not the first guy that has been in there?”

“Technically no, but you’re the first guy who has been in there who—“ I stopped myself from finishing my sentence.

“Who what?” He said, pointing the chopsticks at me.

“Nothing,” I whined, looking for something else to put in my mouth so I didn’t have to talk. I had actually been eyeing Sergio’s noodles (I had to order, double meat and no vegetables. He was definitely a machine.) since he opened the box, but me pretending to be healthy ordered sushi (although I would keep it my secret that one of the rolls was a shrimp tempura one which partially defeated the purpose of being ‘healthy’ at all).

“You can’t start a story without finishing it.”

“I don’t know. I was going to say that you’re the first one that I danced with for them where I actually felt something, there.”

What I was originally going to say was one of two things:

1.)   You are the first one that I’ve taken there that I’ve actually slept with. That’s probably not the right verb because everything with Sergio is more like a proper  _follar_. It’s dirty, rough, vulgar, includes lots of inappropriate words, and plenty of bruises the next morning. I could have sworn that the first time that I wouldn’t be able to walk the next day.

2.)   You are the first one that I’ve actually felt  _in love_  with, but it’s definitely way too soon to tell anyone that you love them, especially when you haven’t even been ‘dating’ (which is what we call it these days. Go to dinner, go to bed, wake up late, repeat cycle).

“What did you feel, María?” He said, in a tone that I couldn’t tell was serious or joking.

“Stop it, you know that I like you,  _tonto_ ,” I leaned over and took some of his food from the white box. It was the grease I was craving for the weeks before the Adriana event.

“Last time you told me that, you said that you really, really liked me.”

“What are we, eight? I really, really, really, like you Sergio.”

I could feel my face begin to turn red. At this moment I wished that I was the same shade of brown as my Mami who couldn’t really blush at all. I was extremely tan, but my cheeks always changed colors when I was embarrassed. For some reason, I didn’t know why, I always felt uncomfortable when I had to directly tell Sergio that I liked him.

But at this point I was pretty sure that I loved him.

That is such a ridiculous feeling and term, love.

I absolutely hate it.

Sergio shook his head, and gave me his silly grin that seemed larger because he had his hair pulled back in a ponytail tonight.

“Well, I really, really, really, really like you Mari,” He said.

“Are you going to show me how much you like me then?” I asked.

“It depends on what you want.”

“Do you have on those lacey things?” He asked.

“You’re asking about what I’m wearing under my clothes right now at dinner, Sergio Ramos?  _Dios mío._ You are terrible.”

“Tell me,” He whined, “If you liked me a lot you’d answer the question.”

“Yes,  _sucio_ , and you can only see them if we can have a regular conversation right now that doesn’t involve my underwear.”

“Okay, fine. Tell me about your day,  _princesa_ ,” He said formally, changing his tone of voice and causing me to giggle a bit because it was slightly ridiculous, “Minus of course when I fucked you pretty well this morning.”

“Stop,” I said, pushing him, “Or else nothing at all. You can finish your noodles and go home.”

“Mari, you know that it was amazing.”

“I was hungover. I’m not even sure if I remember that early in the morning. I barely made it to work. And you know what else happened?”

“Enlighten me.”

“My boss told me that Adriana, the crazy fashion designer, wants me to model in her next fashion spread. She’s also interested in you too, and guess who else?”

“I don’t know, Cristiano?”

“No. Isabel. Your crazy ex-girlfriend. Everyone keeps referring to her as my friend. I don’t know anything about her other than she used to date you and works at the Prado.”

“You’re lucky that’s all you know about her,” Muttered Sergio.

“Here’s the catch though, if and when I agree to do this tomorrow, I get two weeks of extra vacation right after the photo shoot.”

So, I can do whatever I want for two weeks, including sleep over at your place and not have to worry about catching the Metro. That’s what I wanted to tell him, but I felt like it was too much.

Why did everything feel like too much, but then not enough at the same time?

“Do the photo shoot then,” He said, pointing the chopsticks at me again, “They’re honestly not that bad. We’re doing a lot of traveling soon if you’d like to go. There’s like a zillion away games in a row, and one of them is in Malaga. You can show me around.”

You’ve read my mind.

“Are you inviting yourself to my house in Malaga, Sergio?”

“Maybe. Do you have a problem with that?”

“No. The only problem I have is you. You make me late to work, you give me bruises, and you—“I what?”

“You, I don’t know, I can’t tell you.”

Do not tell him  _te amo_ , Mari, do not do it yet.

“Can I tell you why you’re my problem, María?” He said, putting the white box on the table and taking my hand.

“Tell me.”

I couldn’t believe the words I was about to hear. Luckily I was finished eating, because I would have definitely choked…


	8. Chapter 8

**Sergio -**

I didn’t know that Maricarmen wore glasses until today, when she reappeared from her bedroom wearing black rectangular Ray Ban frames. Her curls were now tied in a ponytail, and she was wearing a Málaga long sleeved training shirt and very short shorts. I was teasing her the entire time over dinner, until she began talking about me being her only ‘problem.’ Maricarmen was a huge problem of mine too, of course, but I wanted to make sure that we were on the same page.

“Can I tell you why you’re my problem, María?” I said, putting my box of noodles on the table and taking her hand. It was soft, and fit perfectly into mine.

“Tell me.” She said, giving her smile that made my heart melt every time I saw it. I’m really into clichés when I talk about people that I like.

Wait, not just like, but the other word, it’s four letters in Spanish and English too, well I suppose three when you use it as a verb.

Say it Sergio.

Just say it. No one is watching you, and if you don’t tell her now someone else will.

“Mari, it’s that—“ I paused because I was nervous. What if she didn’t want to hear this? It’s definitely too soon. I freaked out at the last person who said that she loved me and had a stiletto thrown at my face after my awful reaction.

“It’s that what?” She said, her eyes locked into mine behind the glass of her frames.

I exhaled loudly, “I don’t know how to tell you this best, but Maricarmen, I—I love you.”

I stumbled over the last part.

This wasn’t as picture perfect as I had planned. I could have told her at the fancy lunch we went to a few days back were we had a zillion courses and stayed for hours. Maricarmen said she wanted an excuse to dress up, and I picked her up in my Audi coupe wearing my newest custom tailored suits. She looked flawless as usual in a purple dress and silver heels. She talked the entire time about everything from her obnoxious American co-workers to the beach, shoes,  _boquerones_  (which we ate, as usual), dancing, and how stressed she was about her event she was planning. I allowed her to talk without interrupting much because I usually did most of the speaking.

Instead we were sitting on the floor, eating take-out on the coffee table, and I decided to tell her that I loved her.

“You what?” She said, then covering her mouth.

Enunciate your words.

Don’t rush over what you want to say.

Say everything. That’s what everyone’s been telling you to do.

Don’t leave out any details.

“I love you, María Carmen. I know it’s only been twenty-five days since our first date—”

You sound obsessive. “But I really love you, and I’ve been resisting telling you because I thought it was too soon, but I know that it’s not too soon at all. I don’t know what else to say, but I love you,  _princesa_.”

She leaned over and gave me a quick kiss, letting go and smiling widely.

“Sergito.” She said, taking both of my hands.

“ _Si_?”

“I’ve been avoiding telling you that I— _que te amo_ for like probably twenty-three of the twenty-five days. You’ve been keeping track of each day too?” She blushed a little, “I mean, not like I’ve been doing that at all. I sound like one of my students. Next I’m going to ask if your tattoos are real. Can I touch it?” She traced her fingers around the tattoo around my wrist, “It’s not Sharpie?  _Dios mío!_ My Mami told me they were made from markers. _”_

She began to laugh a little, realizing how ridiculous the two of us were behaving

“ _Señorita Mari tienes un tattoo_?” I said, mocking her voice, “ _Puedo ver el tattoo por favor? Ahh mira,_ I know that there’s one somewhere here, let me see.”

“I don’t have one,” She said, raising her eyebrows, “I mean, if you can’t see it, it’s not there.”

“Whatever. María I know that the _campanillas_  are right there,” I touched where they were on her body, “They start here, and they end here. And they’re not drawn on with a Sharpie. Don’t ask me how I know that either because by now they would have disappeared—”

“You are so strange, Sergio,” She said rolling her eyes as she usually did.

“It’s true. Besides, what do they even mean? Why six?”

“My family used to call me  _campanilla_  because I was so tiny. I was one of the smallest kids in my class until I had a huge growth spurt when I was about ten and became the tall and gorgeous lady sitting in front of you. There are six for the number of people in my family, for your information,  _mis padres_ , my sister, and the twins. We don’t have all night for you to explain all five million of your tattoos Sergio.”

“We do have all night, Mari.”

“We don’t. As you always forget, I have to go to work tomorrow and I’ve probably been late every morning for the past twenty-four days. I’m going to have to start sleeping at my house again. That is where I pay rent, not here in the super apartment.“

“You don’t have to go to work, stay here with me,” I whined.

“You’re bad for my health—wait, how do you know?”

“Do I know what?”

“How do you know when you’re in love?”

“I just know. I can’t really articulate it.”

“But like, how does it make you feel though? Like me, for example,” She began to blush, “I can feel my face is turning red right now and I’m probably smiling really stupidly,  _Dios mío_ , I am being so ridiculous, but I do this thing where I get really shy which is the opposite of my personality and, yeah.”

At this point, I wanted to miss my non-articulate girlfriends and love interests of the past who didn’t really talk much or ask deep philosophical questions.

I had never really thought about what it meant to feel ‘in love’ before. I had only told someone once before that I loved her, and she squished my heart like a tomato for gazpacho. That was when I was a less attractive teenager. Now, I felt like my feelings were more mature and this love was legitimate, it was for real, and I suppose that I was ready for something serious—well serious, rough, beautiful, lovely, fun, wild, and all the other adjectives that describe how this relationship with María Carmen has been so far.

“It’s like,” I paused to think, “I don’t know. There are only a few feelings that compare, like winning the World Cup. It’s like a rush of emotion all at once, and it hits you, and you just can’t really explain it at all. It’s the best feeling in the world, but no one can feel it the same way as you.”

“Sergito,” Said Maricarmen, leaning over to hug me, “I think that explained everything I wanted to hear.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I know that you mean it, seriously.  _Te amo_ ,” She kissed me, and gave me the smile that I enjoyed seeing so much.

* * *

**Maricarmen -**

I always did this weird thing where I had to roll the ‘r’ in his name more ridiculously than usual.

I don’t know why, but when we were in the middle of, you know, and my tongue wasn’t down his throat, it was moving, saying his name and asking for more every single time.

This morning was no different. I heard my alarm go off beside my head while  _he_  was holding me tightly: my biggest problem. I slid the snooze button over and turned away from him, liking how safe I felt between his arms and now wanting to move at any point today. After last night and how we both had dropped the l-word on each other, I had felt worried for the first time about  _this_ , whatever it was. I had never told anyone that I loved them before. No one had ever made me feel so silly the way that he did. The butterflies, the blushing, the way that he was the only thing I ever wanted to talk or think about anymore. I decided that this is what it must feel like.

And then I had this feeling of doubt in the pit of my stomach. I saw the way he looked at  _her_  too. He kept telling me how crazy she was, but I could imagine the things I would do if I needed to get him back. I really needed to sleep more instead of obsessing about crazy ex-girlfriends.

I closed my eyes, moved around again, and felt myself begin to go back to sleep. I needed the ten extra minutes.

“María,” He said, half asleep, nudging me in my back with his knee, “Your alarm went off. What are you doing still in bed?”

“I’m sleepy,” I replied.

“You’re going to be late again.”

“No I won’t,” I said, opening my eyes to look at the clock on the nightstand. It was earlier than I wanted to be up.

“You will. You forgot that you have training before you go to work.”

“Since when do I work out this early?”

“Do you need me to show you what I mean?” He planted a messy kiss on my neck, well, it turned into a bite on my neck. I felt the mark show up and decided that I wouldn’t even try to cover it. Whatever, everyone knew my business anyway. Let them be jealous.

“Oh, this type of training,” I said, “Is this what you do at work all day?”

“I wish,” He said, “I’d win the championship every year.”

“ _Liga de campeones_?” I said, feeling my body begin to warm up even at him just beginning to brush his fingers against my spine.

I was so weak around him it wasn’t even funny.

“World Cup,” He said, “It won’t take long, I promise, and you’ll be on your way to work Mari.”

“Do you wake up only thinking about fucking, Sergio?” I said, teasing him.

I was guilty too.

“If you weren’t so good, then I wouldn’t have to—“

“Don’t take it too far,” I said, now feeling fully awake and like myself because the sassy comments were already freely flowing from my mouth.

“I’m just saying,” He continued, “Besides, I knew you were good with your tongue, but not like the way you were last night. I definitely dreamt about that.”

“You’re gross, once again. I don’t do that often,  _comprendes_?”

“I can make it up to you,” He said, as I felt his hand slip through the material of the front of my shorts, which were the only things I managed to put back on before going to sleep very early this morning.

“This morning, I really can’t,” I said stopping him from touching me. He knew that after about two seconds of doing what he wanted to, I would be his and allow him to do whatever. I really needed to be on time today.

“Why?” He whined, giving me a very sad face.

“I have to see Adriana today.”

“Who?”

“The fashion designer from the party I planned,  _recuerdas_? Extra work, extra vacation?”

“Right. What time?”

“In the morning, which means I can’t show up with a hundred marks from you,” I pretended to push him away.

“ _Nena_ ,” He began the whining again, “ _Por favor_.”

“I promise you after I figure out what I have to do for this modeling job you can have whatever you want, okay?”

“Mari,” He continued, putting his hands around my hips as I sat up, feet dangling off the side of the bed, “Stay.”

“Just because you know that I love you doesn’t mean I’m going to get fired because you want me to stay in bed with you all day. Later.”

He gave me the sad face anyway and I tried to ignore it.

Who was I kidding? I didn’t want to go to the office and endlessly Google myself while bouncing away on the Pilates ball instead of working. I’d much rather be here with Sergio, but I knew that he’d be off to training soon himself. I was pretty sure that they were traveling to Mallorca over the weekend. How I would love to go to the beach and get some sun, even though it technically isn’t beach season yet.

“Wait,” I said, “You’re actually in my house, so it’s my rules and both of us are going to work on time or else you won’t be invited back here tonight.”

“Fine.” He gave me that stupid grin he always has when he wants something.

It was too hard to not give into him.

“Okay, just one kiss,” I leaned over, giving him a kiss and allowing the warmness of his body and arms to surround me.

I knew that I couldn’t just simply kiss Sergio before going to work. One always turned to two, and then I always ended up without clothes again, cursing in Catalán and screaming his name until we were finished.

“You’re driving me to work now,” I told him, as I finally got out the bed to take a shower and glamorize myself for my meeting with Adriana.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me to take you,” He said, as I threw a pillow at him.

“You’re lucky that wasn’t a stiletto, I really am pressed for time now.”

 I should have stayed at home for the surprise awaiting me at my office this morning.

Two shots of espresso couldn’t even wake me up for this one.


	9. Chapter 9

**Maricarmen -**

I had bought a pair of huge Beats headphones, like the kind all the footballers wear, and nodded my head mouthing the lyrics to an American rap song and sometimes moving one of my hands to the beat.

Being basically fluent in English was good at some things like actually understanding these songs, eavesdropping on my obnoxious colleagues, and getting to go on business trips to New York all the time.

 I was up to serious business right now.

Well, I was actually in the middle of writing my sister Laura an email. Laura is perfect in every single way. She is a doctor and is married to a beautiful surgeon, Andrés from Granada. Both of them finished first in their classes and now everyone in my family is waiting for them to produce their first highly perfect baby. Laura says she’s in no rush, and would rather spend time with Andrés and focus on her medicine. I don’t blame her. Children are quite scary, and I’d much rather be at the beach all the time with my good-looking surgeon husband too.

When I think about perfect, normal couples, I think about them. I have no idea what my family would think about my relationship with Sergio. Then again, I’ve been boyfriend-less for quite some time, so perhaps it’s hope that I won’t become a cat lady or decide to become a  _monja_  (I suppose it’s a little late for that though, especially after dating El Ramos).

My relationship was not normal.

I was trying to list what I actually did with Sergio, and how and why both of us professed our love to each other last night.

 I wrote a list on a sticky note, now attached to my half-filled mug of Nescafé on my desk. So far it only said ‘hang out, sex, talk, teasing, more sex, enjoy each other’s company, be supportive, lots of fucking’.

 I underlined the last word with the sparkly purple pen I used for special messages to my secretary or interns. Sergio was definitely something special; especially because of the way he can make me scream his name in a heartbeat. It was definitely more than physical though.

 I knew I really liked him when he spent the night at my place without even begging for anything. He showed up with a bottle of wine, a  _nepolitana_  (my favorite), and an American movie (with Spanish subtitles for him) and that’s all we did, drink, snack, movie, and cuddle.

 Nearly everyone was telling me to be careful, how awful footballers were, but this one didn’t seem to be so bad at all.

 I could tell that I really loved him, tattoos, long hair, and all.

 There was a knock on my door, as usual, and I assumed it was my boss getting me because Adriana was finally here to discuss this ridiculous modeling gig.

 “ _Si_?” I said, shoving the sticky note in my desk along with the stack of  _Hola!_ magazines I collected from my co-workers.

“Delivery.” It was the secretary, holding a vase filled with a bunch of Spanish bluebells.

“Thanks. This is a surprise,” I said, looking for the note that typically came with flowers, not that I got them a lot. Usually they were from my Mama or sister, but I knew exactly who these ones were from.

“That’s not it,” She said, “There’s a bigger package too.”

Sergio stepped into my office, with a box from  _La Mallorquina_ , smiling widely. He was wearing jeans with a white v-neck and his hair tied back. “ _Hola_  María.”

“Sergio, hey,” My voice was overly surprised, “What are you doing here?”

 I could see my coworkers peeking into my office from a distance through the opening of the door. They were so nosy. I couldn’t take it anymore.

 “ _Gracias_ ,” I said a little loudly, trying to hint that I wanted the secretary as well as the people peeking in to leave, “I can take care of this now.”

“You’re welcome,” She closed the door, but I knew that all of them would be standing outside, waiting to hear if anything happened.

“ _Princesa_ , after I dropped you off, I went to your favorite bakery, so I just wanted to drop these things off,” He said, putting the box in front of me. I got up, went around my desk, and gave him a huge hug.

“Don’t you have training?”

“Yeah, I do, soon, but I wanted to see you.”

“Oh? You know that they’re all standing outside the door right now, waiting for something to happen. They want us to be fucking right now.”

He rolled his eyes, “That’s not all that we do. Besides, I know that you have an important day, so I brought you a _nepolitana_. When is Adriana coming? You know what?”

“She’s coming whenever she shows up, and what?”

“We should pretend something happened, like I should go back out there with a sex face on or something.”

You have that face on all the time, Sergio.

“I don’t need any more office gossip. They talk about me all the time. It is crazy because they forget I understand everything that they’re saying in English”

“Let them talk. Your office is very nice, by the way.”

“Oh, thank you, I’m happy that you like it.”

It was so hard not to rip off his clothes and start something right in the middle of this office.

“We should definitely break it in at some point though.”

Oh?

“Not today. I’m telling you, the people you passed to get here are all standing there listening and taking notes on what’s going on in here.”

“So, if we just fake it? I can start moaning or something, Marí,” He said, dragging out the ‘a’ in my name and putting his eyes very far up into his head pretending to put on one of the many faces he made while we were intimate, “You’re so fucking good,  _quiero más_   _por favor_.”

“ _Hijo de puta_ ,” I said, punching him, and regretting it because it made my hand hurt.

“I didn’t come for that anyway, only to visit you.” He shrugged, “But I mean, if you want anything more, I’m open.”

“I’m not being responsible for you having an awful practice, because I don’t want to hear about it all night, Sergito.”

“I don’t know, we could try something quick. You just have to promise to be quiet.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I could definitely eat you right out right now.” He gave me the ‘Oh my, I just thought out loud,“ face and looked away.

“You can’t say that any better? I’m not a steak.” I pulled down the blinds to my windows, already knowing where this was heading.

“No, I don’t know. Do you want it or not? You’re better than steak, María.”

 _Si, por favor_.

And now I’m hungry.

“Kiss me first.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to give the signal,” He began kissing me, first beginning with a normal kiss and moving on to one of those Sergio bite like kisses that hurt every bit as much as it felt good.

 _Coño_  times a million because I knew that I’d let him do whatever he wanted.

He paused and looked at me, “Are you sure because they’re all waiting outside the door?”

“I’ll try not to be too loud,” I said, anxious for him to do what he was going to do.

He put his hands around my back, and slowly unzipped the zipper until he slipped the dress off my body leaving me in my underwear and heels. “María,” He said into my ear, “You should walk around like this all the time, then everyone would want you to be their publicist.”

“It’s my secret. Not everyone gets to see this,” I said back, followed by kissing him again.

Next he had me completely naked, other than the heels. I could tell he was growing more excited by the second, as was I. I felt so bad, potentially fucking in the office.

Not potentially, actively, in the middle of.

He was pushing me closer to my window that had a slight ledge that lined it. It was just enough space for a couple plants and for sitting. I never thought about it as a place for sitting until now when I had my back leaning against the blinds that separated my body from the glass.

Sergio opened my legs and stood between them, breathing heavily between planting kisses across my collarbone. I could feel the slight stubble from his face. I don’t know why he didn’t shave, but I liked this feeling as one by one he left his mark, sometimes going a little to hard. I liked it this way, but it was going to be so hard to keep quiet.

“There’s something wrong here,” I said, feeling him move one of his fingers across my most sensitive part, that was already feeling quite ready from anticipating whatever he was going to do.

“What could it possibly be?”

“I’m only wearing shoes, and you’re fully clothed.  _Quitate_.”

“It’s too much effort for me to put my clothes back on,  _princesa_. You just have to slip that thing back on, y  _lista_.”

“Not fair,” I said, playing with his belt between my fingers, “But do what you’re going to do quickly because Adriana will be here any minute.”

“She can join us too,” He said, not jokingly at all because I knew him quite well now in such a short period of time, “I don’t mind sharing.”

“I mind sharing you though,” I said, kissing him again, “I’m very greedy and I get jealous easily, Sergito, so just do what you’re going to do. I want you all to myself.”

I unzipped his pants, slipping them slightly down his sides until I got to what I wanted, taking him in my hands, “You’re always excited to see me.”

“You know what, María,” He began, shifting his weight over me a little more, “I’m sorry that you turn me on like that, _princesa_.”

I felt him enter me and had to bite my lip a little too hard to resist making any kind of noise. This was going to be harder than I thought.

He started off slowly, kissing me between, and it still hurt just as much as the first time with him because he’s so fucking rough. He grabs onto you, squeezing your arms, taking in a little of your skin, slamming into whatever hard surface he has you against.

I let out a not so loud sigh, well noise is relative especially when you’re in the middle of fucking with Sergio in your office.

I fingers were in his hair. He kept threatening getting a haircut, and I’m sure he’d look equally gorgeous with it, but there was something about the hair that I loved.

I’m so Andaluz sometimes it hurts, like I was hurting now as he continued to move.

“Sergio,” I said into his ear, trying to stay quiet.

“ _Nena_ ,” He said back, looking at me and beginning to give me one of  _the faces_.

Harder,  _por favor_.

Just think it in your head, do not say anything.

“ _Dáme más por favor_ ,” I said.

“How much more?” By now he was going pretty hard to the point that it was beginning to hurt, but I like it better this way. More bruises means more passion in my opinion, so let me know that it’s real.

“I—” I was reaching the point where I couldn’t string together words, “I’m so—”

“Shh,” He said, putting his finger in front of my lips.

I opened my mouth where the typical moan would come, closing my eyes, feeling him inside me.

I couldn’t tell what hurt more, trying to keep quiet or him going.

“Sergio, I can’t,” I said, because I really couldn’t.

“You’ll get used to it,  _princesa_ ,” He said, “Have you ever done it in a plane before?”

“No,  _sucio_ , uhhh—” I felt like I was really close, “Sergio,  _coño_ ,I—”

“ _Si?_ ”

And then I let out a huge sigh, moaning to let all the pressure out, a bigger than one I’ve made in a long time because I was finishing and it felt amazing and I didn’t know how to keep it in.

Fucking Sergio is quite like a run on sentence, isn’t it.

“María, you can’t keep quiet,” He said as I continued.

“You’re one to—“

Trying not to finish and make a mess everywhere and scream so loudly that the entire building hears it. Sergio Ramos, you’re too good.

 _Knock, knock, knock, knock_.

“Shit.” I said in English as I heard the familiar knocks of my boss, Carlota at my door.

“What?”

“She’s here, and you’re here, and I’m naked and just shit, I don’t know what we’re going to do,” I whispered as he pulled out and I noticed he was still quite hard. This was cute.

“ _Si?”_ I said loudly, getting up and pulling my clothing from the floor.

“Sit on the couch and hold the flowers or something over that,” I said to him very quietly as Sergio gave me a look of pure shock.

“Fine.” He mouthed, reclothing himself as the voices from the other side of the door talked, “It will go away.

“Maricarmen?” Said Carlota, “Adriana’s here. Can I come in?”

“ _Un momento_ ,” I said, slipping my dress on—wait, where was my bra? I knew something was missing.

“Are you ok?” Said Sergio quietly.

“Yeah, just,” I saw it next to my desk and threw it underneath, “Come in!”

“ _Hola_!” It was Carlota and Adriana.

And behind the two of them, no one else but Isabel Velázquez, the only person that I knew exactly knew what Sergio looked like when he was up to no good.

“You’ve got someone here?” Said Carlota, “ _Hola_!”

She was slightly too excited to see Sergio, then again, I knew her history with footballers. Sorry, but this one belongs to me.

“Yeah, Sergio stopped by with flowers and  _nepolitanas_  for me. He’s going away tomorrow, so I thought it was nice of him to show up. He was actually on his way out.”

“ _Mucho gusto_ ,” He said, getting up and giving her two kisses, “Sergio.”

“Carlota, nice to meet you even though. Adriana y Isabel  _también_.”

“ _Hola_ ,” He said giving Adriana two kisses and then he stopped when it came to Isabel. He just stared at her blankly, and I knew he was trying to decide in his head what was appropriate to do. Not to make things weird, he quickly kissed her cheeks and then stepped away, “I don’t want to interrupt anything, was just saying hello to Maricarmen, so I can head out now.”

“You can stay if you want to,” Continued Carlota.

“No really, he should go, don’t you have training soon?” I interrupted, noticing my bra was stuck to the back part of my right heel.

“Yeah, that’s right— _Ciao_ , nice meeting you.” Sergio squeezed past the three who were now standing in my doorway.

I awkwardly sat down on my Pilates ball, unhooking the bra and shoving it into the bottom drawer of my desk.   
“Are you okay?” Said Carlota, pretending to sound concerned. I knew that this meant she was just genuinely nosy.

“Perfect. So are we meeting here or somewhere else? What’s going on?”

“I’d really like you down at my studio today to start a photo shoot,” Began Adriana, “And then possibly over the weekend in Mallorca for pictures at the beach, but we’re going to have to figure out how to get rid of this.”

She touched my collarbone, and I knew exactly what she was talking about.

Sergio had left his mark, my face was guilty, and I’m pretty sure that everyone knew exactly what was going on inside the office a few minutes ago.

Isabel Velázquez’ eyes narrowed, as I saw the word  _puta_  flash inside her head about a million times every second.

“Oh?” I said, for a lack of a better word.

“ _Guapa_ , my make up artists can do anything, don’t worry. Just be careful around those famous boys. I’m the first person who knows how they break your heart. Anyhow,  _vamos_ , let’s talk over a  _cafecito_  or something before I’m asleep here.  _Lista_?”

I hoped that I was ready.

I just didn’t know how I would deal with Isabel for an entire afternoon without her actually killing me.

All I needed to do was make it to the end of the day, and go back home to Sergio.

Modeling couldn’t be too bad now, could it?


	10. Chapter 10

**Maricarmen -**

“You know what’s funny  _guapas_ , I know absolutely nothing about you two and I’ve picked you to be the faces of my latest campaign. Lucky you. This doesn’t happen much, but you were just both so gorgeous the other night at the Prado. Other designers have been calling me, asking who you are and I couldn’t tell them. Lucky for me, it means that you are both mine.”

I couldn’t tell if Adriana had already been drinking, but she sounded like it. She over emphasized every ‘a’ in every word she used, waving her cigarette in the air as she talked. Adriana had a wide brimmed hat, rounded glasses, and a long aquamarine dress to accompany her very high, very sparkly silver heels. She looked like she belonged on the beach instead of a café in Madrid. We sat in the front because you can no longer smoke inside in Spain. I loved this rule, because I could now breathe inside my favorite little bar, but most people were against it.

I looked at my watch and saw it was only about 11:15. I had done so much in such a short period of time this morning. I had sex with Sergio not once, but twice, and the second time was in my office. I was most upset because I didn’t even have the opportunity to eat my  _nepolitana_  he had brought me, the ‘original’ meaning of his trip.

Whatever. It was done, and I had plenty of bruises to show what I was doing behind closed doors.

Adriana continued to speak, “Tell me a little about yourselves, who are you, what do you do? I need to know so I can put you in the perfect dresses, so I can, you know, have the right vision for you. It has to be perfect.”

My guess is that Adriana had wine when normal people went for a  _cafecito_  in the morning. I preferred _Colacao_ with two spoonfuls of mix in warm milk before I left home, which I didn’t really have much time for recently due to Sergio Ramos occupying my bed many mornings of the week. I was always rushing out of the house to make it to work on time, often unsuccessfully. I was going to become American soon, and ask for my coffee _para llevar_ instead of doing it the Spanish way, waiting for the perfect cup to brew and sitting for an hour or so drinking it. 

“You first,” Said Adriana, pointing her cigarette at Isabel Velázquez, “Who are you?”

“I’m Isabel Velázquez Santos. I’m twenty-four and have lived in Madrid my entire life. I studied Art History in University and work at the Prado. I’m a curator. I’ve been there for about a year.”

“That’s not enough. I need more about you, what do you like, have you ever been in love, what makes you upset? More, more, more.” Adriana was absolutely crazy.

“I love painting as well, and I don’t know, art is pretty much my life. It’s the only thing I do well– I also really like sport. I like football a lot. I played when I was younger.”

“No love?”

“I’ve been in love once,” She looked at me, “It didn’t end too well at all.”

“You’re such a pretty girl, you should have plenty of boys lined up for you.

“Not really,” Whispered Isabel, looking into her coffee cup instead of making any eye contact.

For the first time I sympathized with this girl. I didn’t know her well, and I shouldn’t even like her, but for a split second I felt guilty for some reason. It’s not like I took Sergio away from her, but then I did in some sense. She did throw a shoe at his beautiful face. But she was equally as gorgeous, far much so than me in my opinion. Only someone who looked like Isabel could make Sergio the least bit interested in Art History. The couple of times I took him to one of the museums in the city he tried to die—look at me talking like we’ve been dating for ages. Not even a month ago, I had the same feelings as Isabel and would have been staring into my coffee as well.

“And you, who are you?” Said Adriana before taking a long drag on her cigarette.

“María Carmen Navas de la Cruz, I’m from Málaga. I’m 24 as well and studied journalism at Compultense here in Madrid and never left.”

“Oh, you’re smart, aren’t you? Tell me more.”

“I don’t know, I speak Catalan and English? That’s not that exciting. I really like shoes a lot and I used to want to play football when I grew up and realized that only boys could do it. My brothers play for Málaga.”

“So, that’s why you’re fucking that Madrid player? He’s the one with the hair, what’s his name again? He’s cute. You two look nice together.” She waved the cigarette in the air.

I nearly choked on the coffee that was going down my throat at the time. “I what?”

“ _Guapa_ , I was young once.”

“You’re talking about Sergio?” Guilty. “We’re just friends.”

Isabel gave me the death stare; everyone could sense that I was lying poorly. I’ve never been a good liar. Ever. I bet Adriana sensed some type of tension this morning when they interrupted my session with Sergio and he hesitated to give Isabel kisses.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, darling. Enjoy it now while you’re young. Just don’t be so obvious,” Continued Adriana. I knew she was looking at the mark Sergio left me, “Tell him to kiss you a little lower next time. The trick is, if you’re going to have a daytime hook up like that always stay quiet and no kisses that are too hard.”

I couldn’t even make eye contact with anyone. I wanted to disappear.

She kept speaking, “Perhaps you can teach Isabel a thing or two about getting a footballer. What else could you want? Rich, so strong, good looking, and they’re amazing in bed,” She said the last part softly, laughing a little, “I’m not here to give love advice, only to let you ladies know what I need from you for my print campaign.”

I couldn’t even look at her. I was too embarrassed that everyone obviously knew what was going on this morning. Between that and not wearing a bra all morning, I was quickly dying on the inside.

I was also extremely guilty and anticipating a lecture from Carlota later in the afternoon.  

All I wanted was to go home, have a glass of wine and go to bed. I wasn’t even sure if I was in the mood for Sergio after all of this.

Adriana pulled out her iPad and put it in front of us. It had pictures of very short, beachy dresses and swimsuits on models. “You two will be wearing things like this for me,” She said, “On the beach in Mallorca. These and a few other things along with a few beautiful men wearing very little clothes—it will be great for both of you. Trust me, your Real Madrid player does what he wants when he’s away from you, so I won’t tell if you find someone else that you fancy. I’m trying to use a few football boys in my shoot too. Nothing wrong with a little fun, no?”

Isabel’s eyes lit up for the first time this afternoon. I saw the ‘Oh?’ going off in her head.  I would have had the same reaction if I didn’t have Sergio waiting for me to go to his place tonight.

I cringed at the thought of being around any footballers. With my luck, I’d fall head over heels with another one and be in a love triangle just like my best friend Leah. I’d much rather have pictures taken of me by myself, thank you.

“So when do we have to go there?” I asked, thinking of when I needed to leave Sergio and had to pack my things, my least favorite part of traveling. 

“Sunday night for a Monday morning shoot,” Said Adriana, lighting up another cigarette, “Don’t worry, you’ll be back home by Tuesday.”

“No, I’m not busy, I was just wondering.” I looked into my coffee, still feeling embarrassed and wanting to just hide in the comfort of my office instead of being stared at by everyone at the table.

“Fine, well, let me show you more of the clothes then, ladies.”

This was going to be a long few days.

* * *

**Sergio -**

I only had four days to plan something perfect for our one-month…wait, we weren’t even really completely officially dating so I wasn’t sure of what one planned for their  _media novia_  on their one month anniversary.

I would invite her to go with me to my game in Mallorca. Hopefully we would win, have an off day, stay at the beach, and fly home the next morning. That’s what people who love each other do, right?

Or I would wait until I got back home, take her to a fancy dinner and officially ask her out.

I wasn’t sure if she’d want to speak to me anyway, especially after what happened this morning at her office. I didn’t go planning on hooking up, but it just happened. María looked so good, and I couldn’t help myself. She was supposed to come to my place and cook dinner tonight. She said she would make me something British called Shepherd’s Pie, her grandmother’s recipe. I already wanted her cuddled next to me, wearing an oversized sweater with her hair tied up and the thick-rimmed glasses she wore. She could talk about the weather, and I’d be interested.

I hadn’t really heard much from Maricarmen after this morning. The only message I received from her said, ‘ _La puta madre, they all know.’_  And that was it.

Right now I was lifting weights and being spotted by Álvaro, one of the few people on the team who really knew what was going on between Maricarmen and me. My mind was so all over the place, I was surprised that I hadn’t dropped the bar onto my chest. I didn’t even feel like showing off today, and decided to lift a normal amount of weight.

“You’ve been acting so weird,” said Álvaro as I did my last bench press and he helped me put the bar back on the stand. Third set of reps finished. I felt like my arms were going to fall off. It’s been a long day. All I wanted to do was shower and drive home so I could see Maricarmen.

“Really, while we’re lifting?” I said, just not wanting to talk about it at all.

“Yes, while we’re lifting unless you’re going to take me on a coffee date to explain why you’re acting so strange Ramos. Is it about that girl you’re seeing?”

“María?”

“Yes. Unless there’s another one you’ve found by now. You still get to do that.”

“Yeah, but I’d imagine it’s a lot better to go home to someone who you know loves you every night, isn’t it? You have your two girls every single day, and you know that they love you.”

“Now you’re getting all sentimental and shit, Sergio. What’s up? This is not you at all.”

“I think that I may have fucked it all up.”

“How so? Talk to me.”

“First, I told her that I love her. It’s so soon, and I told her last night. She reacted well, but still, who falls in love after a month? I then went to her office this morning, just to take her some flowers and say hello. It turned into hooking up and right in the middle her boss knocks on the door. She’s doing some modeling right now and the designer noticed a huge mark I left on her neck and called her out about it. I haven’t really heard from her all day after that.”

“Wait—what type of hooking up? I’m not even worried about the entire love thing. I knew that I loved Carlota when I first met her. It happens, Sergio.”

“Like properly fucking. Full on, really hot shit, like the kind you see in–you know.”

“Sergio,  _Dios mío_ , how long have you known this girl? You’ve already been to her office?”

“Yes, and I’m thinking that was the first and last time,” I sat up, “Why do I confide in you about my life anway? You find so much of it to be funny. I might as well call up one of those women in my phone and see what they want to do because Mari probably doesn’t want to see me anymore.”

“I don’t know, I guess it’s because I’ve been with the same girl forever. Sergio, you’re definitely different though. Not wanting a different girl every game anymore? I’m proud of you.” He sat on the bench beside me, “I’m pretty sure you didn’t mess it up either. She didn’t freak out when you told her that you love her?”

Did I really have a different girl every game?

I mean, I suppose I have kind-of dated seven women in the past two years. I can go through my Elena before Lara, Marina before Sara and most recently Alba and Isa thing in my head, but who am I kidding, I stayed with most of them because they gave me what I wanted whenever I wanted it. Isa was the toughest one before Maricarmen. She wasn’t easy at all, and I liked her hard, kind-of bitchiness that made her unbearable. It went along with her beauty. Those eyes she has can cut through anyone, but with me it was different.

Well, until the entire stiletto incident.

This morning when I saw her at the office, and she was wearing that tight short dress the first thing I thought about was taking it off her and doing what we used to do.

I had actually met Isa at a club following a big win. She wasn’t interested in me at all at first, but then after some trying I managed to take her home. I thought it would be a one-time thing, until all I could do was think about her the next day. It wasn’t like how I think about Maricarmen, none of the fluffy sentimental shit and already naming our future kids, but I just wanted to fuck her over and over again.

I felt the same way this morning.

Even after everything with Mari, having a great office session and the like, I felt that initial awkwardness that I always had with Isa until I was a few  _copas_  deep.

I needed to stop randomly running into her. I love Maricarmen, and that’s that. I know that I love her, I even told her so and that is something that I’ve rarely told anyone.

Álvaro looked at me blankly as I tried to process the million ideas running through my head, “Are you okay?” He asked.

“How much time do you have for me to explain everything?” I said.

“I’ll buy you a drink, come on,” He said.

I decided that it was me being anxious about officially asking Maricarmen out. I hate commitment and everyone knows that. I was scared about being tied down and actually not messing everything up like I usually do.

I wanted to finally have that love that so many of my friends were finding now instead of passing through useless girls, one by one. I wanted to settle, and I was convinced in these few weeks that Maricarmen was the one. No one else made me feel like she did, and I liked that she wasn’t easy. She picked at me, had her own opinion, sometimes told me no and the lace that she wore underneath her dresses turns me on every single time.

Just thinking about her right now…

So, I knew that my issue wasn’t Isabel Velázquez.

It was me.

I was the problem.

I needed to tell myself that being serious was okay.

But running into Isa every other day wasn’t helping this at all. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Maricarmen -**

I couldn’t wait to wipe the pound of makeup off of my face after the photo shoot. It wasn’t too bad, and Mallorca was absolutely stunning. I was able to speak Catalan to everyone and had some food that reminded me of my Abuelita in Barcelona. I was also counting down the seconds I had until I could see Sergio after his game. I kept checking my phone for updates and saw that Madrid was pounding Mallorca, as they should have. I was upset that we were on the same island and I couldn’t be there, but then I imagined the week I had off in return for doing this favor for Carlota. She couldn’t make it to the shoot due to needing to finish up some business at home so it was just me with Isabel Velázquez who I thought would kill me at any second now.

We sat next to each other, looking nearly identical in matching white robes, holding little white cups of coffee in our hands. This girl reminded me of my sister Laura. She had the same green eyes my sister inherited from my father’s side and some of the same expressions–except of course my sister knew how to smile. 

I kept resisting making small talk, as I usually liked to do. I didn’t really know what to say to her, but the silence was too much for me.

“Are you enjoying this at all yet?” I said quickly, staring into my cup as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“It’s fine.” She said coldly.

“Yeah.” I crossed my legs.

“You don’t have to talk to me. I don’t want to be with you as much as you want to be with me.”

“Why don’t you like me? I don’t even know you.” I said quietly and a little irritated.

“Let’s see, I don’t know. You’re seeing Sergio?”

“You guys weren’t together when I met him, Isa. I didn’t steal him from you.”

“Just imagine if you were me.”

“What about being you?”

“Come on, you know what I mean. Would you want to have to deal with your old boyfriend’s current girlfriend at all?”

“No—but it’s not like I planned this at all.”

“You knew I was coming the other day, and then you fucked him in your office? That is gross.”

“Not like you wouldn’t do it if you were with him long enough.” I snapped.

“Please, I have class. I wouldn’t get caught.“

“Why are you so terrible?”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re the one who started the conversation.”

“No, really? You’re gorgeous and obviously smart, and you’re so cold and mean to everyone and everything.”

“You don’t know me either—you believe everything he says to you about me?”

“From sitting here with you, yeah.”

“You know him pretty much as well as you know me, but I guess since you’re a  _puta_  enough to fuck him in your office that your standards are pretty non existent.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me _._ ”

“Don’t call me out of my name, please.”

“I only say things exactly how I mean them, María Carmen. I know a  _puta_  when I see one and it was written all over your face and neck the other day.”

“”It’s not my fault that he left you. If I’m so easy for getting him, what did you do so wonderfully to keep him for so long? Oh wait, you’re still not with him, and he doesn’t belong to you. I hate saying this, but you’re gorgeous. Why don’t you find someone else?”

“Apparently I’m not.”

“No, you are—and I know he still finds you to be beautiful. I don’t even know you, and you’re making yourself so unlikable right now? Why are you so bitter, Isa?”

“I don’t need your sympathy.” She put her coffee on the vanity table behind her and turned away. I assumed her arms were crossed. I felt the tears burning her eyes for her.

And like the other day, when I felt bad for this girl—I felt the same feelings again, only because I knew the exact same feelings that she did. The last guy I dated, well the only other one I seriously dated had me feeling like the worst girl in the world for weeks. If I’m honest with myself, it really took months. Okay, so it was nearly a year.

I met him in University and he was what I thought was super perfect, but it ended up falling apart a lot more quickly than it took for us to get together. Unlike my sister who is now happily married to her equally as smart surgeon husband, the guy I seriously dated ended up being very awful. Beyond awful. More than imaginable. He was supposed to be a temporary fling and I fell unbelievably hard for him.

I decided I didn’t want anything serious after him, and went for hook-ups instead going on a few dates with guys, sometimes sleeping with them, but not calling them back. Then I decided I was completely done with men until Leah kept suggesting setting me up on a date with Sergio. I always found him to be attractive, thought I’d hook up with him and that would  be it–but now I was saying te amo to him like non other, and he’d even seen me in my big glasses. 

I had pushed the previous boyfriend in the back of my mind until I started seeing Sergio and running into his former girlfriend, or whatever she was to him. I remembered the first time I saw her at the Prado, not having any clue who she was until I felt her eyes cut right through me.

I didn’t mention that the last boyfriend was a footballer yet, correct? Well now I did. I had sworn any pretty soccer playing boys off, and I was right back in. Rumors had it that previous boyfriend was dating some awful older woman and that she’s allegedly pregnant–not that I keep up with him anyway. He’s a _hijo de puta_ anyway. 

Sergio was right when he said Isa was cold blooded. I felt as if she was looking right through me, or that she could possibly turn me into an ice statue.

“We have to spend a very long weekend together, so I think it would be best if we could at least pretend to get along,” I continued.

“Do you really want to know then?” She said, not turning around and exhaling heavily.

Not sure.

“Go ahead, if it’s the only way you’ll talk to me. Then, I won’t ask you any more questions about Sergio at all.”

“He was the only guy I ever loved, and then I went to his place one day and he told me he didn’t think he could ever love me. We were seeing each other for a long time, and he never at any point loved me. He told me it was fun at first, but he got bored and we needed to end it. I didn’t know how to react, so got really mad and threw the closest thing at him, which was one of my shoes, at him. I’m not really good at expressing how I feel, so that was the easiest thing to do. I don’t like talking about him or even seeing him and he keeps showing up because I keep running into you because you’re the latest one he’s seeing. Be fucking careful with that  _hijo de puta_.” She took a long sip of her coffee, “ _Coño_ , I wish they had wine in here.”

“I bet you there’s wine here somewhere,” I said under my breath, thinking of Adriana and her constant state of drunkenness. “So he never thought it was serious?”

“No. That’s just how he is. I should have known better.”

“I really like him.”

“I bet you do. It’s early. He’ll get bored and next he’ll be sleeping with Julia and you’ll feel super bitter.”

I exhaled. “I’m sorry I even brought him up.”

“No, it’s fine. I actually feel better talking about it. I haven’t really talked much about him after the whole shoe thing.”

“I can imagine.”

“María?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not that bad. I shouldn’t be such a bitch to you, but you’ve got to understand if you walk into a meeting and see the girl fucking your ex-boyfriend—”

I was convinced she had been drinking a little today too.

“I know exactly how that feels, Isa—can we not talk about him anymore?”

“Yes, please.”

For the first time in the few times I interacted with Isa, I saw her smile. She was a million times more beautiful when she did. “Where do you think Adriana is?”

“Smoking somewhere on the beach, trying to find the perfect spot for us to look ridiculous for a few hours.”

“Do you think she could bring us some wine back?”

“I’ve been thinking harder than wine. I need rum or whiskey or something harder. I need a lot to get through this weekend.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Drinks after this?”

“Why not. We’ll need it.”

Before I had something else to say I heard the low, dry, “ _Chicas!”_ from a distance, which meant that Adriana was very close to retrieve us for the photos.

I still wasn’t sure if I was ready for my glamour shot…

* * *

**Sergio -**

I needed to ask her before it was too late.

I wasted asking her during our weekend in Mallorca, but in all honesty, it just didn’t seem right at the time. Maricarmen was exhausted, and we spent most of the weekend cuddled together in our hotel. She’d wake up for us to grab a bite to eat, but that was mostly it. We spent the night after her modeling shoot watching American movies and eating overpriced room service with slightly too much wine. She eventually fell asleep in my arms, her eyes still hiding behind her thick-rimmed glasses.

Now we were back in Madrid, back to our busy lives. Maricarmen showed up at my house with her favorite brown Coach tote and a large manila envelope. She told me she was coming over, and I dressed myself up a bit, changing from the sweats I had on for the past few hours after training. I had done a lot since going to work—a little shopping, calling my brother and niece, cleaning up my room a bit. It was a disaster, and I had given my maid a few days off. She takes such great care of me, keeping every corner of the place pristine and sometimes cooking me lunch.

 Sometimes I thought this place was far too big for just one person, but it felt more full with Maricarmen over so much. She had even left some of her things behind in my room, a set of clothes, a spare toothbrush, and a mini-make up bag. This is what a real girlfriend was supposed to feel like. I keep playing games and refusing to make things absolutely official. I can’t figure out why I haven’t asked María Carmen yet, but today I’m determined that I will.

She stood at the front door, wearing a little black dress, blazer, and tall heels with a gold bow. Her curls were pinned up, and she was in glasses again, this time more fashionable, thinner rimmed designer frames. I kissed her hello and let her in asking her how her day was.

“You’d never guess who is being nice to me,” she said, leaving her shoes by the door. I couldn’t help to look and see how the dress hugged her curves perfectly. After seeing how everyone dressed in Maricarmen’s office, I saw why she had to look like she stepped of a runway every day.

“Everyone should be nice to you, Mari,” I said, taking her purse from her shoulder. I could see the top of a bottle of cava sticking from the top.

“No, really, you won’t believe. But I’ll tell you over the cava I picked up on my way over here. It’s from my country.”

“You and your cava. Isn’t all cava Spanish?”

“It’s from Cataluña.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re from Málaga.”

“By means of the beautiful autonomous community of Cataluña, Sergito. Do you want to hear the story of my family and the Republic and having to leave for England again? Didn’t think so. What have you been up to?”

“Nothing. Just listening to some music, trying not to burn a pot of coffee.”

“You and your flamenco. I swear you’re one of my tías and coffee isn’t hard to make. I’m going to have to get you one of those magic American machine things. ”

 She gave me a kiss, and placed the envelope on top of the breakfast table in my kitchen. Maricarmen loved spending time in there, always noting how my kitchen was about a third the size of her apartment. She reminded me that she cooked mainly because she was hungry, and not to satisfy my stomach before allowing me to sample whatever she was trying. It was my turn to try to impress her, and I had called my mother for a couple of recipes.

“This looks like more than coffee, Sergio.” She said, seeing the groceries I picked up from the store on my way home from training.

“There is coffee on the stove though.”

“Yeah, and plenty of other stuff too. I don’t mind making dinner tonight. Your fridge is always full for someone who doesn’t cook.”

“No, I’m making you dinner María.”

“What’s on the menu?”

“Coffee, obviously.”

“Seriously.”

“Italian stuff. Pasta, salad, bread, red wine.”

“Or cava?”

“Or cava. Do you want a glass now, Mari?”

“No, actually I’d like a cup of your coffee if it isn’t ruined.

 “What’s in the envelope?”

“Open it.”

I took the envelope from the breakfast table and opened the seal to pull out a stack of prints. The first was Maricarmen wearing next to nothing, one of Adrianna’s tiny bikinis, on the sand in Mallorca. She looked stunning, her brown skin radiant with the turquoise material of the swimsuit. I could feel my cheeks begin to turn red.

“You’re blushing,” She said, taking the photo from my hands, “You would turn to this one first.”

“You’re stunning, Mari.”

“Only when I’m nearly naked?”

“No, I mean, you’re absolutely gorgeous right now too. I find you to be amazing all the time.”

Way to be ridiculous.

I saw the next picture of Maricarmen in the same swimsuit, now laying very close to Isa who was dressed in purple. Both of them looked too good. I needed to stop looking at these pictures before I got a little too excited.

“Yes, Sergio?” Said Maricarmen, taking that picture from me only to uncover a picture of her now in a white swimsuit.

“These are hot.”

“You’re articulate.”

“It’s true.”

“I was so uncomfortable shooting that entire thing, let me tell you. And I got to know your crazy Isa. She was being nice, can you believe it?”

“Not at all.”

“Deep inside she isn’t too bad, but I don’t know, I still don’t trust her.”

“You shouldn’t.” I saw the next picture of Maricarmen and Isa, their faces nearly touching and wearing long, flowing beach-style dresses. “Is this really high fashion, Mari?”

“I said no nudity, not no contact with other models. I forgot to put that in my contract.”

“So, what happens next.”

“I don’t know. Usually on my end, we help create the campaign. I don’t know what pictures I like best.”

“All of them are stunning, _nena._ ”

“This is why I love you,” Said Maricarmen, leaning over to me and kissing my cheek. I pictured her lipstick there as a sign that I belonged to her. Well, at least I thought I did. At this rate, I’d keep fooling around and lose her to someone who wasn’t afraid of commitment.

“Are you sure you want to make dinner?” She asked, as I turned to the next photo.

“Yes. You make me dinner all the time.”

“Okay. I’m going to do some work while you cook so I’m not tempted to help you.”

“I don’t need your help, María.”

“Do you even know how to cook pasta?”

“I can read, you know.”

“No one has ever cooked for me before, Sergito, so my expectations are high.”

“How high?”

“Very high, like I haven’t eaten carbohydrates for two weeks and I’m Spanish.”

“Nena, you will have plenty of carbs.”

“There aren’t any Chinese places around here, are there?”

“No.”

“I’ll find one now and put it in my phone, just in case dinner is a disaster.” She laughed a little, rolling her eyes.

“María, why are you so mean?”

“Because that’s how I show I care, Sergio. Can I help you a little?”

“No, Mari. You can’t.”

“Fine.” She pretended to pout, crossing her arms.

“Sad faces aren’t going to help at all, María.”

“Whatever. I’ll be in your room. Let me know if you need anything, please.” She kissed me again. “And if you catch anything on fire, make sure to wake me up if I fall asleep.”  
“Nothing will catch on fire. It will be fine.”

“Uh-huh.”

She walked away, still in the heels, and I watched her go with the dress that looked so perfect—perfect enough that I wanted to peel it from her body the entire time she talked to me. I couldn’t ruin dinner, and I couldn’t avoid asking her this time. I had bought the necklace, and practiced the line a million times to myself in my bedroom, in the car, in the shower—everywhere.

I decided being in love meant not being able to do one of my favorite things, talking. It usually got me into trouble, but this time, I wanted it to get me what I’ve been wanting for so long, a real relationship where all I wanted to do was be with the other person. Maricarmen was finally the person who would make me grow up a little, and face my fear of commitment.

Well, tonight she would make me face my fear.

I had already told her that I loved her, it was just saying that I wanted her to be my only for now.


	12. Chapter 12

I decided to stay at the studio a little late tonight.

My little girls were a handful, excited about their competition on Saturday morning. I felt unusually exhausted; blaming it on the amount of work I still had, despite Carlota’s promise of my very lengthy vacation where not an email would be sent to me.

I felt like I was losing my flexibility quickly as I struggled to lift my leg as high as I knew I could if I really put more effort into it. I had done it a couple days back, stretching and doing a little bit of the contemporary moves I remembered. Sevillanas and Flamenco were really my things, but I really did love contemporary. I wasn’t too great at modern or lyrical, but here in my space in the studio where I taught my little girls every week, I was perfect.

I stopped in the middle of the music playing my head to look at my reflection in the mirror. I felt a little fuller, but it made no sense to me at all. My eating was sporadic as usual thanks to my busy schedule. I suppose I haven’t been exercising as much thanks to the newly official boyfriend, but I decided right then to go into extreme diet mode. I had promised Sergio to go to this fancy dinner with him soon anyway. I already had the dress picked out. It was tight fitting and would show the slightest inkling of excess weight.

I’d lay off the _nepolitanas_ until after the party and actually make time do work out. Some dance, some cardio, perhaps convince Sergio to lift weights with me in his gym—I would be okay. He had actually mentioned something about me being able to stretch my body in ways he had never seen before followed by his face turning completely red. I told Sergio that was exactly why dancers were the best. We just are, even if we’re slightly out of touch. As much as I pride myself in teaching my girls well, I just really wish I had more time for me to keep up with it. I wish it were more than me pinning a flower in my hair to watch them from the audience or dancing at family parties and Ferias.

Now I had my own dance partner. It took him only twenty-five days to tell me that he loved me. Now we were together for essentially three months -  both of us fumbling over who would be the first one to ask the other out.

I guess we both kind-of did it at the same time. I went to Sergio’s after work, excited to show him my portfolio of pictures from Mallorca. He blushed looking at the photos, which was weird to me because he’s seen every piece of my body in the flesh. Sergio confuses me sometimes, he’s into all of the rough and tough stuff but gets a little uncomfortable at times when we’re together. It’s like he’s always being extra careful to make sure he doesn’t hurt my feelings.

Even more surprising was showing up to his place and seeing the beginnings of a meal. This was the first time Sergio had cooked for me. We usually ate out or I volunteered to make dinner. Last night he had planned out three courses (well, he cheated a little with dessert but that is okay) so carefully with directions his mother sent him. (I read one of the notes and it said ‘Please do not ruin it, niño! She seems like a great girl.)

I took a nap to be awakened by the smell of deliciousness instead of the sound of the smoke alarms going off in the house. I drifted back off on the couch, dressed in one of Sergio’s v-necks and the sweatpants I had left in my emergency-sleep-over kit, also known as my overnight bag that stayed in his bedroom. I watched one of Leah’s news packages on television, talking about the Copa del Rey and eventually landed on a channel showing dubbed versions of American cartoons. They reminded me of my summers in England where my mother sent us off to learn English with my grandparents who instead spoke to us in Catalan. We went to an English language summer camp with a bunch of immigrant kids during the day and came home to an informal Catalan lesson with my grandmother’s desserts, often _churros y chocolate_ from the drinking chocolate Mama would send back to her along with other Spanish things. I always thought it was important to remember all parts of me, which was why I found teaching my little girls to be so important.

I wasn’t feeling the best during the entire class, and excused myself once for a little bit of fresh air. I felt like my stomach was tying itself into knots for a couple minutes and then it would stop and I would feel okay.

I was on that weird birth control where you only get your period a four times a year, and I wasn’t due to have it any time soon. It had come right before I went to Mallorca and I had to directly tell Sergio why I didn’t want anything to have to do with him for a couple of days unless it was him providing me with an unlimited supply of chocolate strawberries. He showed up to my place, strawberries at hand and with a sappy chick flick, which he fell asleep watching because he could no longer pretend to be interested.

For all I knew, I could have picked up a stomach bug from one of my little kids, or perhaps it was stress as my doctor sister always liked to say was the reason for all of my ailments.

Or it could be.

I let the ‘e’ word slip through my head about a couple seconds and shrugged it off. Not possible at all. We were pretty safe most of the time.

Well, there was that time in my office when he just showed up. It’s not like normal people keep those type of things in the top drawer of their desk. Or, it could have been some of the other times when I was slightly too tipsy on expensive wine to remember.

No. Not, at all. I’ve digressed. Haven’t finished explaining how amazing my Sergito is.

He let me do all of the talking, and I noticed he was barely eating, pushing around the pasta on his plate.

“Are you alright?” I asked, smiling at him hugely. I loved the amount of effort he put into this entire dinner.

“Yeah. María?” He said.

“Yes?”

He closed his eyes. “I have to ask you something important.”

“I’m enjoying everything, what are you so worried about?”

“I—I have something to ask you.”

“Go ahead.”

“I was going to ask you after we ate, but it just feels right. I want us to be—well, I think it’s about time that we become—”

I wanted to save him from his misery.

“Yes, I would love to be your official _novia_ , Sergio.”

“How did you understand what I was trying to say? I had it all practiced and planned out in my head, the right words to say to you, the dinner, the everything and this, and then I’d tell you about the flamenco show I got us tickets for, and I can’t even form a complete sentence. I was even going to wait to take you riding, but life kept getting in the way. Here’s at least something.”

He put a box on the table. I recognized the blue packaging with the white ribbon immediately.

“I didn’t need a dinner, or a blue box, flamenco, or anything to let me know that you love me. I love you too, and I’d love to be with you.”

He smiled hugely. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean it when I say I love you, even if your mum has to help you cook.”

“Hey. Why do you think I asked you out?” He laughed.

“Oh, that’s not funny, Sergio Ramos Garcia, at all. I can take that back in a heartbeat. You’ll be alone again calling Isa.”

“I’m kidding, Mari. I do love your cooking though.”

“That’s because you’re lazy. You’re highly capable of putting something together. Everything tonight was pretty good.”

“I know, but you do it so much better and in half the time.”

“Now that we’re official we can have rules. You cook for me once a week, or no sex.”

“Please, María. You’re as bad as I am. You won’t make it a week.”

“Try me.”

“We’ll see. Open the box.”

“Not yet, I’m still stuck on you think I should just cook for you just because I can.”

“You should cook for me because you love me.”

“Whatever.” I held the box in my hands, opening it to see a beautiful diamond horseshoe pendant on a silver chain. I couldn’t stop the smile across my face and I knew Sergio had thought hard and long about buying me this necklace.

“You shouldn’t have.”

“But I wanted to. It’s because I’m lucky to have met you and because we both like riding so much.”

“You’re eloquent.” I said laughing a little.

“What is it now?”

“We both enjoy riding?”

“Horses, sucia.”

“We need to really go riding—horses, Sergito. I have one in Málaga you know, well kind of. It’s my family’s so she’s mine. You probably have a million.”

“I only have two in Madrid and two in Sevilla, that’s four. The one here though is my favorite. She’s absolutely beautiful. Tall, strong, rides extremely well.”

“I feel like that’s how you talk about me when you’re in the locker room with the guys. Oh yeah, Maricarmen, she’s tall, strong, and rides so well. Jumps are close to perfect. Listens to directions. Enjoys sugar cubes.”

“I love my horses, María, sorry, and I don’t talk about you like that.”

“I hope not. I might ride well, but that’s no ones business but ours.”

“I want to see you in your riding gear though.”

“You have.”

“In pictures. Not in real life.”

“I look quite nice in boots and a blazer, thank you. Let’s go out to the stable this week then.”

“Technically, I’m not allowed to ride during the season.”

“Ugh. Okay. Fine.”

“There’s something else we can do though.”

“What?”

“Go upstairs and get comfortable.”

“I’m already comfortable.”

“María.”

“Castellano isn’t my first language.”

“Eh, you know what I want,” he said switching to English.

“Whenever you ask me something in English, you know that it touches me right here and I usually can’t say no,” I said, touching where my heart is the days I’m not feeling evil. Sergio’s English was quite terrible, but I knew that he was practicing and taking lessons in his free time. I practiced with him sometimes. He’d get over it in a few minutes and we’d be back to Castellano.

“So, you will come upstairs with me?” He continued.

“I got two sentences out of you? You must want me to do extra stuff tonight.”

“No, I just want you, that’s all. I want you out of those clothes—”

“ _Por Dios_ , slow down, one step at a time.”

Sergio wasn’t the only one. All I wanted after that dinner was for him to kiss me in multiple ways.

"Dessert and then dessert?” He said, trying to find a compromise with me playing mind games with him.

“What do you have for me?”

“One of your twenty five favorites.”

I went into the kitchen with him as he got our last course, chocolate covered strawberries. At the sight of them I thought of how amazing it would be to have the melted chocolate itself all over his body and to lick it off; yes I understand I’m a little dirty sometimes. He could tell by the look on my face I was thinking something naughty. I was teasing him because I knew he was feeling some type of way, as was I, but he was feeling the thirst a lot more.

“Yes, sucia?” He said, placing the strawberries on the counter.

“Nothing.”

“I can tell by your face that you’re up to no good.”

I took one of the strawberries from the plate, slowly taking a bite and pulling it from my mouth dramatically. “Maybe I am? I know that’s exactly what you want me to do.”

I used the tip of my tongue to touch the strawberry and raised one of my eyebrows, giving him a bit of a smirk.

“That’s it,” he said. “You just want to torture me, María. You win.” He looked slightly uncomfortable, and that was a face I knew very, very well by now.

“You’re no fun.” I bit off the rest of the strawberry, wanting to eat about ten more.

I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me. Some days I wanted to eat everything, and on others I ate almost absolutely nothing. Today was an eat everything day. I spent all of yesterday thinking about being hungry but feeling ill the moment I went to eat. Today, I started eating sweets on the way to work, having a chocolate croissant as a snack, and probably more than Sergio at dinner. Lucky for me, Mallorca was behind me. Maybe I could afford to gain those five pounds back.

“I’m no fun? You’re teasing me right now. You can’t eat those like that.” He picked one of the plate and put the entire thing into his mouth.

“Why not?” I took another one and did the same thing, eating it painfully slowly and moving closer to Sergio.

I decided to kiss him, trying to help end his torture and all his boy feelings that I didn’t understand.

“ _Estás mejor_?” I asked, taking both of his hands.

“A little,” he said. “I would feel better if we just finished all this.”

“We don’t have to go upstairs.”

“You’re lazy.”

“No, just something else.”

“Oh. I know exactly how you’re feeling.”

Actually, at this point I felt the same way I did dancing earlier today. The shifting feelings between perfectly fine and terrible where my head would start hurting and it would just work its way down.

I needed to call my doctor sister. She was good for getting me out of messes when I was little and letting me know that I wasn’t dying or pregnant and just had a cold or a stomach bug. I decided to attribute it to eating too much and likely sexual frustration from thinking about undressing Sergio all day. By now I thought I’d be over his attractiveness, but after he cooked for me the vicious cycle of thinking he was perfect started all over again.


	13. Chapter 13

**Sergio -**

I could still feel María against my skin as I felt the warm water from the shower hit across me, every drop washing away her touch as I felt my body relax after a tough practice. It was raining the entire morning, making practice an absolute mess. All I wanted to do was go home and start what we finished this morning again before I had to head off to practice. I ended up beating her a few times in FIFA on my Playstation last night after having an amazing hook up following the dinner that took me far too long to cook. I’m not the best chef, but if I try really hard it comes out okay.

Maria said she’d cook dinner for me today, and perhaps something a little more, which I assumed meant we’d be at it again. I loved the way she said my name into my ear. The faster and harder I go the louder she gets. I heard her in my head, the way she rolled the ‘r’ in my name, the feeling of her perfectly manicured nails digging into my skin.

>   _I could hear my alarm ringing next to my head. I wanted nothing to do but reset the clock six hours back to when I fell asleep for another six hours of sleep. I couldn’t remember anything that I dreamed of because nothing my mind could create could be better than what was cuddled next to me. I didn’t want to move to wake her up, but I needed to get up and get ready for work._
> 
> _But I also wanted a little bit of Maricarmen before I left too. I kissed her forehead, causing her to grumble a bit. I kissed her again, and she opened her eyes narrowly and turned over._
> 
> _“Mari,” I whispered into her ear, touching the part of her back that was most sensitive._
> 
> _I wanted her to wake up so we could do something quickly and then get in the shower before we both had to leave._
> 
> _“María,” I whispered again, leaning over her to kiss her, even though her back was facing me._
> 
> _She looked at me wide eyed this time. “I’m sleepy,” she said._
> 
> _“Me too, beautiful,” I said._
> 
> _“I know when you want something. What is it?”_
> 
> _“I want you,” I said, smiling._
> 
> _“I can’t. I haven’t brushed my teeth yet.” She closed her eyes again._
> 
> _“No me importa, te necesito,” I said before kissing her cheek. I went to bed feeling some type of way, and woke up even worse._
> 
> _“I’m too tired, and I still don’t feel well,” she groaned._
> 
> _“I’ll make you feel better. Promise.”_
> 
> _“You always say that, and then sometimes it takes you two tries to get it right, Sergio.”_
> 
> _“Not true.”_
> 
> _I could feel that I was already ready for her and felt a little embarrassed because I knew that she’d comment on my over eagerness for her touch. She at least would have to take back what she just said._
> 
> _“It won’t take long, I promise,” I said into her ear._
> 
> _“Yeah, I know because you can’t keep it up that long.” I could feel her fingers brush near my navel now, and I knew that in a couple seconds she would…_
> 
> _I closed my eyes, but heard her voice. “You definitely won’t take too long. What have you been doing while I was still asleep.”_
> 
> _“Nothing. Just keep doing that.”_
> 
> _“This is going to go both ways, cariño.”_
> 
> _“Like what? After you finish, I’ll take care of you. Or—”_
> 
> _I reached underneath her nightgown, my favorite black and pink lace one and brushed my fingers where I knew her tattoo was moving them down exactly to the place I knew where she liked to be touched the most. Two seconds and I’d get what I want. By now, she probably knew my entire deal though. I decided to not talk, and moved so I could be over her, giving her another kiss._
> 
> _“Please?”_
> 
> _“I can feel you against me Sergio.”_
> 
> _“That’s the entire point. I promise it will be quick and you can go back to sleep.”_
> 
> _“I don’t want it to be quick. If you’re going to fuck me then it better be properly or I’m closing my eyes until I absolutely have to start getting ready.”_
> 
> _“One more kiss,” I said giving her another one hard as I prepared to enter her. I was just about to when she yelled._
> 
> _"_ _Stop Sergio—can you wait a second. Move.”_
> 
> _Maricarmen squirmed from underneath me and reached for the bedside table. She came back, putting a little square in my hand._
> 
> _“Use it.” She said._
> 
> _Usually we did, but there were a few times where we got caught in the moment and didn’t think twice about protection at all. Besides, I knew that María was on birth control anyway, so we had nothing to worry about._
> 
> _“Why now? We didn’t last night—”_
> 
> _“Yeah, and that was stupid, so we should this morning.”_
> 
> _“You win.”_
> 
> _She was killing my mood exponentially, but I still wanted her, rolling my eyes and putting it on before finally getting what I’d been waiting to do for the fifteen minutes. I definitely went a little too hard, but it’s not fun unless it’s a bit rough, right?_
> 
> _The more I thought about it, Mari was right, but I stopped thinking as soon as I could hear her begin to say my name over and over, her nails digging against the skin of my back. She’d begin cursing in one of the 25 languages she knew and then make the face that gave me the signal that she was about to finish._
> 
> _I guess she was right today though, I’d finish before she would. I kissed her hard, as I felt myself go. She joined me not too long afterward, leaving me with one last kiss._
> 
> _“That was good,” she said between short breaths. “But, you owe me a trip to the ballet.”_
> 
> _“This afternoon?”_
> 
> _“Sunday. Since you play Saturday. It will be nice, and we can have dinner after.”_
> 
> _“Can we have lunch today?”_
> 
> _“What do you have in mind?”_
> 
> _“I don’t know, whatever you want, princesa.”_
> 
> _“Japanese? There’s this place Leah always talks about that I haven’t been to yet. I’d like some sushi.”_
> 
> _“Let’s do it.” In all honesty, I hated sushi but I wanted to do whatever Maricarmen wanted to do later._
> 
> _“Sorry for being super grumpy, but you know that te amo,” she said, giving me the first smile all morning._
> 
> _“You don’t have to tell me, I already know.”_
> 
> _“Look at you being cheesy this morning.” She got of bed, still in the lace nightgown, her hair all tied up on the top of her head. “I expect my coffee to be waiting for me downstairs, Sergi.”_

I guess I was thinking about her a little too much because when I looked down I could tell how excited I was getting at the thought of it all. Calm down.

I promised Mari that I’d pick her up from work. Even though her boss promised her a couple weeks off for doing the photo shoot, she kept calling Maria in for every little assignment. I told her to quit her job and stay home with me all the time. She just rolled her eyes, as usual, saying she’d be bored in five minutes and that I should quit my job and stay home with her.

The rain was terrible as I drove what felt like two miles an hour. As I got closer to the restaurant where we were going to meet, I saw a silhouette that looked very familiar to me. I slowed down, and I was absolutely right. It was Isa, completely soaked, walking in her heels and a tiny little dress with what used to be her umbrella. The magic of tinted windows, she had no idea that it was me watching her. I rolled down the window.

“Isabel?” I said.

She kept walking.

“Isabel Velasquez.” I said again and she stopped, looked, and narrowed her green eyes.

“Get in. Where are you going?” I felt terrible.

“I’m fine, no thanks.” She muttered.

“You don’t even have to talk to me. You’re soaked, and I can drive you wherever you’re going.”

“I told you I’m fine walking.”

“Are you sure? What’s the point? Come on. It’s pouring, I’m here, and I can give you a ride.”

She gave me her signature-unforgiving look, and if weights were at the bottom of her heels walked towards the car and opened the passenger’s door. I gave her my training jacket to sit on.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“Home. I have to change. I can’t finish work like this.”

“How are you?”

“You said you wouldn’t talk.”

“Isa, come on. We keep running into each other, we can at least be civil.”

“I’m perfectly fine. How is she?”

“Who?”

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Mari? She’s great. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. I keep seeing pictures of you two everywhere. You look happy.”

“Yeah. I am. How are you really?”

“Why should you care?”

“Because even though you hate me, I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“If we didn’t keep running into each other and I didn’t have to work with your new girlfriend would you care?”

“Isabel, yes.”

I decided to keep my mouth shut, as I originally promised as we drove down the road in silence. Isa looked out the window, occasionally exhaling loudly as I resisted singing along to the music playing through the car from my iPhone. Niña Pastori, como siempre. I felt the horror build from my finger tips to my head as the next track came on. It was the one that made me think of Isa, the one I remembered sending to her early on in our relationship, the second most stable one I’d had before Maricarmen.

I wanted to change it, but that would be far too obvious.

I looked at Isa quickly, her arms still crossed and her green eyes a little wider than usual. I gave her a slight smile and looked at the road.

I loved María Carmen _con todo mi corazón_ , I really did, and I knew I did. I told myself that in my head as I heard the song play and glanced at Isa in the passenger’s seat.

“Are you seeing anyone?” I asked, like an absolute idiot.

“Sergio, can we not?”

“I know a few of the guys who are looking for someone now. I can set you up on a date.”

“I don’t need your help finding someone, and I don’t want to be one of your friend’s side girlfriend.”

“Sorry for asking.”

“I don’t know why I even got in here.”

“Because you’re soaked and ruined your shoes. I don’t like seeing people be so miserable.”

“If you didn’t want me to be so miserable, you would have given me a second chance.”

I didn’t know what to say. I thought about giving Isa a second chance, but she was just so horrible when I ended things that I didn’t want to deal with her anymore. It was easier to go away instead of trying to make things work.

I decided to stop trying to small talk with her, focusing on the road and remembering how to drive to Isa’s building. I guess I should have been able to read obvious clues better. Isa didn’t want me to drive her home anyway, and I was too stubborn to understand that.

I found a parking space in front of her place and pulled in, grabbing my umbrella from the back seat. “Let me walk you in,” I said before she could push the door open.

“Fine.” She said, grabbing her huge purse from the floor.

I walked Isa to the door of her building of the complex, passing the pool in the middle of the little cluster, letting her walk under my massive black umbrella. Luckily there were no little kids around. I would have stopped to take a picture with them, but I didn’t want to explain why I was there.

“Bye Isa,” I said, holding it over her as she put the key in the door.

She looked back at me with the green eyes, staring for a couple seconds before she kissed me quickly. I didn’t know how to react, and I didn’t want to make a scene. Mari was probably at this point waiting for me for lunch, and I was here standing under my massive umbrella with my ex-girlfriend who just kissed me and staring at me with her eyes still narrowed, and looking quite judgmental.

“What was that for?” Was all I could say.

“You didn’t let me kiss you goodbye the last time I was alone with you like this, so I had to do it. I had to let you know what you’re missing.”

She walked through the door, and I turned to go back to my car parked in front of her apartment complex.

* * *

**Maricarmen -**

 “María Carmen, I know that I promised you extra vacation, but I just have one more favor from you that will equal extra pay and extra days off.”

My boss, Carlota, sat across from me in my office, looking absolutely perfect in a light grey tailored dress and blazer. I liked her light blue jewelry around her neck, as well as her earrings. I wondered how much they cost, and what boyfriend of hers gave them to her. Then again, Carlota always meant business, and ran this firm better than any woman or man that I knew. She could buy whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted because she was that type of lady.

I had my trash can next to my desk because my stomach felt queasy all morning. I blamed Sergio and our pre-work shenanigans, him convincing me to stay in bed with him a little while longer. I let him take control because I didn’t feel well, but I didn’t want to hear him whine all day. Besides, I knew there was a line of pretty girls waiting for him, and I didn’t want anything to get in the way of us developing as an actual item.  

I hated when Carlota started these conversations because I knew it would involve me doing extra work and may include Sergio’s crazy ex-girlfriend Isa. I heard the rain falling outside, and looked out the window every now and then at the sea of umbrellas that passed by. I was supposed to go out to see Sergio’s horses today, but I assumed that trip was canceled. I called it his farm. It was where all of his animals were, including a couple massive dogs that sometimes made appearances at his house. I had a horse growing up, yes, but no dogs in the house. I didn’t understand how people loved them like children—like Leah referred to her dog as one of her children before the entire Connor thing unfolded. Now she has a real kid to look after, and he is absolutely adorable.

“Yes?” I said, crossing my legs underneath the desk and taking a sip of the _gaseosa_ I’d been drinking since I got to work. It made my stomach feel a little better.

“She wants more pictures, preferably with someone of the opposite sex.”

“Adriana?”

“Yes.”

“So, she wants me to take pictures with Sergio?”

“Yeah, how did you know?”

I sighed, resisting rolling my eyes. “Carlota, I don’t know this time. I already feel like it’s a bit much that I’m taking these pictures if I’m supposed to be creating the PR, not in the ad campaigns.”

“She’s going to contact him anyway, and I know that Adriana really likes the other girl you worked with.”

You’ve said enough. “If she wants Sergio, then I’ll do it, but then I really need a break.”

“Three weeks.”

“And no emails.” I added.

“You can’t take all three at once though. One at a time.”

“I can combine them with my other days though, correct?” I’d be in Malaga in no time, eating my mother’s cooking, sitting by the ocean, and visiting friends from when I was little. I also imagined riding the horses at my grandparents’ place.

“Sure. Just give him a warning before Adriana rings him, vale? Gracias, Maria.”

I added warning Sergio about the Adriana call with scheduling lunch with Leah the next day. I needed an update on her life as well as someone to talk about some of my current feelings with both mentally and physically. My sick wasn’t going away, and I definitely wasn’t calling my doctor sister to freak out and demand that I checked into the nearest hospital. Leah was one of the smartest people that I knew, and she analyzed everything so well, even the most ridiculous. Besides, I could trust her with almost everything and she had become like another sister to me. She was probably preparing for the lunchtime news, so I knew I shouldn’t call her yet. I pulled out my phone as soon as Adriana left and sent Leah a quick message.

**I need to talk to you. Semi emergency.**

My phone buzzed. It was Leah.

**I can fit in a quick call. They’re doing my make up in like 5 minutes.**

I picked up and dialed her number, hearing it ring twice and Leah’s voice on the other end in English.

“Hello?” she said.

“Leah, I need to talk to you.”

“I’m here, are you okay Mari?”

“No. I’ve been sick for the past couple weeks and don’t know what to do.”

“What do you think it is?”

I didn’t want to say what I thought and couldn’t because in that instant my stomach tied itself into a gigantic knot again and I could feel whatever I had for breakfast begin to inch its way up. Luckily I had the trashcan close to the desk. Unfortunately, I had a couple hours of work left and would have to move it out of my office before I had another issue from being in here.

“María? Where are you?” I heard Leah on the other end. “Are you alright? Mari? Hello?”

I needed to stop telling myself it was what I thought it was. I was just stressed, that was it.

“Maricarmen, do you need me to stop by after the show or call someone to get you now? Are you okay.”

“I—no, I don’t know I’m just really stressed.”

“Like what?” She said before asking the stylist to re-curl some of her hair.

“I don’t want to say it.”

It was inappropriate to tell Leah this when she was about to go to work, so I just made something up.

“Now they want me to do another shoot and involve the boy this time.” I had such a stupid reason to interrupt Leah’s day.

“I’ll be over this afternoon, since I’ll be in Barcelona all weekend and won’t see you. Stop worrying about everything.”

“Evening. Meeting Sergio for lunch. Everything is becoming too much.” And I didn’t tell her what all of ‘everything’ meant yet.”

“Calm down. Have to go get miked. Love you.”

“Ok.”

I heard the phone disconnect and felt more alone than I have in awhile. I just couldn’t let this happen to me, not now. If I didn’t think about it, it would go away, all of these fears about where this sickness was coming from.


	14. Chapter 14

Two lines.

I didn’t really have much time to process what the two lines meant. I had a busy day ahead of me. I had yet another fashion launch for work with Adriana followed by a charity dinner with Sergio that evening. If I made it through today, it would be Friday. We had tickets to see Rihanna, and I was super excited.

My life was hectic, adjusting to my promotion and one of the longest relationships I had ever had. She had set me up on a date with him four months and six days earlier, and I was enjoying the life of the cameras, parties, and football games. At first I was hesitant, but after five minutes with him, I was sold. I was anxious of us becoming what happened to Leah - the rumors, articles, and pictures trying to break us apart. I even had her sleep over for a week when she and Cristiano were in the middle of a huge fight. (I also felt like there was something she wasn't telling me about her and Cristiano, but that's for another day.) 

Months three and four were turning us into a more normal couple, past the strictly hooking up stage that we were stuck in. Every minute I wasn’t thinking about work, I was thinking about Sergio. I took some of my extra vacation days to spend time in one of my favorite cities, New York for some retail therapy and Skyped him a couple times a day. I immediately missed his surprises at my apartment with flowers, bringing  _nepolitanas_  from La Mallorquina to my office, and yes, even his attempts at cooking me dinner.

When he had away games I’d miss having a glass of red wine with him, watching the  _toros_ , or going out to see the horses. Right now I knew I really loved Sergio, but I wouldn’t let him even think about asking me to move in yet. I liked spending the night, but I also liked going back to my own space in my apartment. I wanted us to last, yes, but I thought that it was too soon.

I wanted it to be forever with all of my heart, but I was worried. I hadn’t had too many boyfriends, and the relationships never seemed to last that long. I was always busy with work, always spending countless hours at the office. Something about us both being busy worked. We were away from each other so much, but the time we spent together was absolutely perfect. I was afraid of this perfection. I saw how quickly Leah’s relationship was almost ruined—I didn’t want that for me, especially with it all happening in the public eye. I wouldn’t let it happen to me; I would try to make this work.

And then I saw the two lines.

I put the stick in a plastic bag and stuffed it in the bottom of my purse. If it sat there long enough, perhaps the real results of the test would be revealed. My mind was playing tricks on me. I had felt the same, and I was actually a little skinnier. The dress I had bought for the big charity gala with Sergio a few weeks ago no longer fit the same. I had to get it tailored at the last minute.

I mean, I did have the entire ‘stomach in knots’ thing happening, but it wasn’t that big of a deal. It always happened when I was stressed.

These things didn’t work all of the time. Then I remembered how I didn’t get a score high enough to study medicine in university. I wasn’t as good at science as I thought—but I could have been a nurse. I decided that I would buy another test from the  _farmacía_  that afternoon on the way home. I didn’t remember feeling different. It was probably something weird I ate the night before. Or the test was bad. Something wasn’t right. The two lines were a lie, and I would keep going along with my day and my life.

Sergio had spent the night at my place. He told me that I had been acting a little strange. I told him it was stress, and how busy I was at work. He had come unannounced. I knew it was him from how he rang the doorbell. He would press it three times, each ring longer than the previous one. “Maricarmen,  _estoy aquí_.” He said through the speaker.

I buzzed him in, and in a few minutes there was a knock on my door. I was working on my project for the next morning, and was in comfortable mode wearing one of Sergio’s shirts, glasses, and my hair tied in a messy bun on the top of my head. I opened the door to see him standing there with a bunch of flowers. “ _Hola guapa_ ,” He said, kissing me, “Are you working now?”

“ _Si_ , but I can always make time for you.”

I kissed him again. He smelled good. “Did you have dinner yet?”

“Sergio, it’s only nine. You know that I eat at 10:30. Plus, I’ve been so nervous about my presentation tomorrow that I haven’t been hungry all week.”

“You not hungry? You must be nervous Mari.”

“You’re always hungry too.”

“How much do you have left?” He put the flowers in the vase on my dining room table. It was covered with all of the work I needed to look at before tomorrow. I wished that I had started it earlier. He then sat down on my couch.

“A lot. How come?”

“ _No te preocupes_ ,” He said, reaching for me. He pulled me into his lap and our noses were nearly touching, “I can help you if you want.”

“Why are you really here?” I kissed him lightly.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“ _Bueno—continua_.”

“And—I had a really long, hard day at practice. You’ve been super busy today too, and we haven’t really talked. We need to relax.”

“What do you really want, Sergio?”

I knew where this was heading.

“I want to finish the conversation we had on Skype last night. Like finish it.”

I felt his hands grip my bottom from under my shirt. This is what I got for walking around in my underwear. “Can you remind me of what we were talking about?”

“Hmm,” He kissed my forehead, “I think it was something like this.”

His hands moved up my body until he unhooked the back of my bra. Lucky for him, it was the strapless. He wasn’t the most graceful guy, and he liked it rough. Nearly every time I had a bruise I needed to cover with makeup. I decided a little Sergio time could be good for me, allow me to focus on finishing my work for the next day. My distraction was perfect, but here I was distracted as he was trying to undress me.

“Excited much?” I said into his ear. I could feel that he was hard against my leg through his jeans.

“You don’t understand,” The shirt was now slipped over my head. I was nearly naked in my living room in front of Sergio, fully dressed. Luckily for me, I had picked a cute pair of black and pink lace panties. They were one of my good luck pairs. I was getting lucky in multiple ways.

“Where are you going to fuck me?”

“Wherever you want,” He kissed me again.

“ _Ven aquí_ ,” I unzipped his jeans to get easier access to the part of him that has been neglected for a few days. I felt him, and he bit his lip, “ _Si_?”

“Your hands are so cold, Mari.”

“I can stop—”

“No, don’t,  _por favor_ ,  _quiero más_.”

With every stroke I could feel him grow between my fingers. I smiled, recognizing the face he was making from the football field. “What?” He said between kisses.

“Nothing,  _te amo._ ”

“ _Princesa_ , you know that I love you too.”

“We can be finished in time for you to have dinner at 10:30.”

“It would be a lot easier if you were naked.  _Quitate_. And you’re making me dinner.”

“Let me take care of you first.”

He slipped his hand into the front of my panties, and began touching me. He started slowly, moving his fingers in circles, the way I liked it.

“ _Estás bien_?” He asked.

I was feeling a little funny—and not the good sensation I usually felt when he touched me that way. I shrugged it off and decided it was his turn. “ _Estoy lista_ ,” I said, wanting him to finish quickly.

“ _En serio_?”

“Hurry up. I want you now.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,  _princesa_.”

I felt his fingers dig into my hips as he entered inside me. It hurt, but I liked it—this is how it was every time. He was always eager and excited, and slightly too rough, but I was getting used to it each time. I moved with his body, with every push I moaned a little louder—until I felt my stomach begin to churn. Perhaps I was hungry. I had no appetite because of my presentation, and had to cancel my lunch plans with Leah and Carolina after work. They had a reservation at 3, but understood how busy I was.

And then the pain began to move up my body. It inched from the bottom of my stomach, to my chest, and into my throat. I felt sick. I could nearly—

“I need to—pull out.”

I felt my head go dizzy. I stopped a near disaster this time. He wasn’t really listening to my nonsense, continuing to move inside me. Each time hurt more and more. I was trying to determine which would be sorer the next day. My guess would be my stomach because it ached. He began to moan, and I felt disconnected from the entire experience. Then I could feel something begin to work its way—

“I can’t,” I was breathing heavily, “This—I—pull out.”

“ _Eh_?” He was confused, now listening instead of kissing my neck.

“Take it—out— _voy a_ —“ I moved my hands from around his neck. I had to move quickly. Then, I covered my hands over my mouth.

I could feel it inch its way up my throat, trying to escape my body. I had to hurry.

I slid from underneath him and ran to the bathroom, whose door was luckily open. Whatever was in my stomach from my  _merienda_  was now in the bidet. I never thought it would stop. My stomach was aching as was my head, and I didn’t want Sergio to come near me. Not only did I feel disgusting, but I was now naked hunched over the bidet and covered in my own vomit. He was standing in the frame of the open door, half naked and holding my shirt, which was actually his, staring at me.

“Mari, the bidet? Seriously? You should have said you were sick.”

“I don’t use this thing anyway—and I felt fine when you got here.”

“Let me clean you up then, and make you  _caldo de pollo_.”

“Do you even know how to make  _caldo_? And I can clean myself up, thank you. I’m fine—It was probably the snack I had earlier.”

“No—and no,  _princesa_ , you’re not fine.”

He took a towel from the shelf and ran warm water in it in the sink. He sat down by me on the floor, and wiped my face. “You are disgusting right now,” he said, “But still beautiful.”

“Kiss me.”

“Now you’re pushing it.” He smiled, “Ok.”

He kissed my forehead.

“That didn’t count.”

“Oh it did. You just threw up, and that is gross. Besides, you left me hanging, and now I’m left with this.”

I looked at him, sitting in his v-neck shirt and boxers he must have just slipped on to see what he was talking about. I hadn’t really noticed how huge he was until now. I guess we were in the middle of sex—I did leave him right before he finished.

“I can take care of that. Want me to kiss it?”

“No, I’m fine. Promise. Perfect. Fine. Brilliant.”

“You like it when I do that for you though.” I licked my lips, jokingly.

“The only reason why you did is because you lost a bet.”

“I’ll do it for you, only for you Sergio.”

“You’re definitely sick,” He put his hand on my forehead, “You’re really warm and sticky and offering to do things you don’t even like.”

“That looks like it hurts though.” My eyes retreated to his package again.

“It will go away—what are we going to do now?”

“I should probably clean this up, shower, and put on clothes now.”

“I’ll clean up, you clean up, and there will be  _caldo_ waiting for you,  _vale_? Even if it is from a can." 

“ _Te amo_.” I whispered.

He kissed the top of my head. “ _Princesa_ , we’ve got to get you better. You can’t do this again. You can’t scare me like this again.”

“I promise that I won’t.”           


	15. Chapter 15

Two lines were following me everywhere. There were two white lines on the top of the  _neopolitana_  I bought that morning on the way to work from La Mallorquina. My new intern, Paulina, had two lines on the bottom of her navy dress. There were two lines of glitter on the heel of the Manolo’s I wore today, my feet aching with every step. I decided to change into the emergency flats I kept under my desk. I walked by two lines of six-year-olds walking back to school from some type of field trip.

It was all in my head. I had nothing to worry about. I made it through my meeting and eventually made it through the charity dinner. It was like most of the others, minus me getting sick in the middle a couple of times and needing to excuse myself to the bathroom. It had to be the food and the stress and nothing to do with the two lines I had seen earlier.

Leah was also at the dinner and went with me to the bathroom the second time. She suspected something was up when I confessed that I wasn’t really feeling like myself and needed to talk to her privately as soon as possible. I knew that she had her own problems, but this was huge.

But it was all in my head I told myself. I went home with Sergio and fell right asleep in the middle of his bed before he could even think about doing anything to me. I felt his arms hold me close when I woke up in the middle of the night. Everything would be fine. He was here to protect me, helping to block out all of these crazy ideas and feelings that continued to build inside me.

I kept telling myself that everything would be fine.

But I kept feeling sick. I kept losing weight. I was tired at work and extremely irritable. No one wanted to deal with me, not even my chatty obnoxious American colleagues who liked trying to ask questions about my personal life. I tried to shrug it off as a phase, but the days were turning into weeks.

It was now nineteen days after I had seen the two lines on the plastic stick and nothing was getting better. I made an appointment with the doctor and enlisted Leah as my companion. By now I had told her how I was feeling. I insisted that I was too busy to go to my appointment, but Leah showed up to my office on her off-day to make sure I went. This was either the longest stomach flu in the world or something else.

It couldn’t be.

_“Señorita Navas de la Cruz, you’re pregnant. All the tests we took show that this is why you haven’t been feeling well recently.”_

I didn’t understand the words.

I didn’t believe the blood test or the plastic stick test that they gave me. I asked the doctor to do an ultrasound to prove that there was nothing wrong with me except some horrible stomach problem. Perhaps I had eaten something weird when I was traveling.

Perhaps acid-reflux? I was probably allergic to something as well. Maybe I needed to go on a gluten-free diet or something. This wasn’t right. I, María Carmen Navas de la Cruz hated children and could not possibly be pregnant at all, no way.

“ _Mira_ , see this?” Said the doctor. “It doesn’t look like much, but there’s a tiny fetus inside there.”

I played the sentences back in my head as she moved the device over my abdomen.

There  _was_  something there. I thought I was doing everything right to prevent this from happening. I was taking the pill, then I remembered my Mama told me how the two surprises, also known as my brothers happened when she was on it too. Why blame irresponsibility when you can blame genetics?

Leah spoke for me. “How far along is she?”

“She’s about ten weeks based on the size and her symptoms–“ the doctor paused, as she moved the scanner across my stomach.

“ _Si_?” Said Leah for me.

“Do you have a history of twins in your family?” Asked the doctor, calmly.

“Don’t you have twin brothers?” Asked Leah.

“My little brothers are twins, yes—” I said, eyes closed, wishing I could close my ears too and disappear. I knew where this was heading.

I could tell that Leah was looking at the screen. She switched to English, “Oh my God, I cannot believe this.”

“Now, María, from looking at this scan, you’re expecting two. You have twins. A is here and B is over here. It’s too early to know their sex, but there are definitely two in here.”

I started crying. I didn’t know anything else to do.  They definitely weren’t tears of joy.

“Can we have a moment please,” whispered Leah to the doctor, and she nodded as I continued to squeeze the circulation from Leah’s fingers.

“Sure. I’ll be back in about five minutes.”

“ _Gracias_ ,” said Leah, and the doctor left.

“Leah,” I wailed, “Not one, but two? Two? How am I supposed to tell Sergio? We haven’t even been together that long, and I’m pregnant? Ten weeks? That’s basically three months. We barely know each other. How am I supposed to go to work? How am I supposed to live?”

“You don’t have to go through this pregnancy, Mari,” said Leah calmly. She looked directly into my eyes. “You know that we’ll support you whatever your decision is.”

“I couldn’t. And there are two of them. I can’t, and I know that Sergio will say no.”

“Look. It could be worse, Mari. You two are in love, right?”

“Yeah, but it wasn’t supposed to be this way. This wasn’t supposed to happen to me. I just got my big promotion and everything is perfect. I love Sergio, yeah, but I’m not ready or capable of being anyone’s Mum.”

“Perfect isn’t realistic. If you’ve learned anything from me, it’s that. Maricarmen, you will be fine, and they will have plenty of  _tias_  to love them.”

“Why didn’t I know, why didn’t I believe the tests? And I’m supposed to go to Sevilla to meet his family.  _Coño_ , Leah.” My mother hated that word. “Oh hey, I’m Maricarmen, and I’m having your son’s babies. I slept with him on the first date and got pregnant a few weeks later.”

“It’s not even noticeable.”

“It will be soon. How long will I be able to hide?”

“There is nothing to hide. We’ll get the ultrasound image and then brainstorm how you’ll tell Sergio. You know, he’s so good with his niece, that he’s probably going to be supportive, Mari.”

“Do you remember how you felt when you found out about Connor?” I asked, referring to Leah’s boyfriend Cristiano’s very adorable son.

“Yes—”

“Imagine finding out about Connor and then getting punched about fifty times, hit by a car, and then dropped into the middle of the Mediterranean. Not only is he going to hate me, but I’m going to disappoint my Mama so much.”

“How do you know who is going to hate you before you say anything, or decide anything about your pregnancy, Mari. You still have a little bit of time.”

“I can’t choose without him. He’s going to want to keep them anyway. You know how he adores children.”

“But you don’t want to tell him. He’ll be more suspicious the longer you wait.”

“How didn’t I know though? Ten weeks is almost the end of the first trimester, done deal. No going back.”

“I don’t know. It’s better that you found out this way instead of getting a phone call from your agent to say that Sergio has a baby with some random woman in England.”

“I mean, I’m still pretty random. I haven’t met his family or anyone yet. We just got serious not too long ago, Leah. But twins?”

“Genetics.” 

“I can’t believe this.”

“Mari, calm down and it will be fine. We’re going to figure this out, everyone who loves you will. You just need to figure out how to handle it yourself too. The doctor will print you out an ultrasound picture and we’ll grab lunch and take it from there, ok? Like it’s a normal afternoon.”

“Leah, I’m in so much trouble.” I exhaled. Almost by this weird instinct, I touched my stomach that was still exposed, covered in a thin layer of this jelly type stuff the doctor put the ultrasound scanner on. I couldn’t believe that the blobs on the screen were a combination of Sergio and me, a representation of our slightly irresponsible love sessions that started hours after we went on our first date. I cringed at the thought of ever having to tell whatever was growing inside me about how they were made because I had no clue.

“ _No te preocupes_.”

“Easier said than done. I need to call Laura,” I said, referring to my sister. “She’ll know how to fix everything, she always does.”


	16. Chapter 16

** Maricarmen -  **

The Navas de la Cruz household was always noisy, colorful, exciting, and a point of interest in my _barrio_ in Málaga. People were always curious to what happened with my family, mainly because my mother who was obviously something other than just Spanish. She was, and still is, and is absolutely gorgeous, a combination of Catalan and British Caribbean. My _abuelos_ on my mother’s side live in England, which is partly the reason why I’m fluent in English and sometimes speak in a pseudo British accent. They were something that weren’t meant to be, but produced my Mama, a beautiful brown lady who speaks a handful of languages like I do. People always asked me what she was growing up and I always shrugged and said she was my Mama and I loved her so much. I couldn’t ever imagine having as much love as she has for me for someone else, and I needed to learn how to do it quickly.

Anyway, she decided to go to university in Barcelona, the home of my _abuelito_ ’s parents,  and met my father, a tall, handsome man from a little town in Málaga by the beach. They fell in love, got married, moved to Málaga, and had four children: my older sister Laura, me, and the twins Jordi and Javier. I came out the spitting image of my Mama, with her skin tone, hair texture, height, and smile.

Laura was tan too, but not as brown as I was. No one ever called her ‘exotic’ or asked if she was adopted. She looked like everyone else in Málaga—I was different, and I hated it. I wished to look like her so much and blend in. She was the pretty and perfect one, and I was Laura’s little sister, the _gitana_ , the one who was terrible at math and liked to play football with the boys getting plenty of dirt on my dresses and school uniforms.

Laura’s perfection continued until now—especially now because she wasn’t the one pregnant after only dating a guy for a few months like me. She was a surgeon, had married a doctor, Andres, whom she met in university in Sevilla. He was born into a wealthy family in Granada, was attractive, and was crazy for Laura. I could tell from the instant that I met him that anything Laura did was perfect to him. I was getting used to being the single sister. I knew I was smart, yeah, but I wasn’t a doctor nor did I have a surgeon with a trust fund neither. I considered becoming a _monja_ —it wouldn’t be bad in Málaga by the beach anyway.

For some reason, even though Laura was always ‘better’ than I was, we were still best friends. I thought that she was the second person I needed to tell about the whole baby thing. Second after Leah because she was in Madrid. And before Sergio. And far before my Mama who would freak out. She was my big sister. I always thought it was her job for her to get me out of trouble. I was always in trouble growing up for running my mouth. Good thing I was quick. I now realize why Mama insisted I stay in basketball so long—it kept me in shape. I didn’t know how I was going to run out of this problem, but Laura could hopefully help me.

I was sitting on my couch with a half consumed bag of chocolate covered _palomitas_ when I dialed Laura’s number. I had the picture of the _gemelos_ on the coffee table, next to a glass of orange _Aquarius_ and a pros and cons list I had created as soon as I got home from the doctor. The purple ink stared at me with my horrible handwriting.

**Reasons to stay pregnant**

**Pros** : Something before Laura, cute baby clothes, move in with SR, neopolitanas, larger breasts, _helado_ without guilt, extra trips to Mercadona, won’t feel guilty for the rest of my life

**Cons** : Weight gain, crankiness, sickness, something before Laura, no sex, no coffee, time from work, work won’t get done, all the fucking gossips at work, childbirth, extra trips to Mercadona, Ramos Navas, SR barely speaks Castellano, how will my children learn Catalan and English, diapers, larger breasts, pregnancy jeans with elastic, lose my sexiness, mother will think I am a whore as will SR’s, viewed as irresponsible, goodbye promotions, ending it will make me feel like a heartless bitch

Leah had gone home to the _palacio_ , after having lunch with me. Discovering that the two lines were true helped explain the reason why the only thing that I could think about was spicy rice from the Chinese place in my neighborhood. Now I was still hungry, with an armada of snacks and plenty of _telebasura_ to last until dinner at 10:30. I was planning on walking to the _restaurante_   _Chino_ a few blocks away for fried rice, extra spicy. I hoped with all of my heart that Sergio wouldn’t show up tonight because I’d probably look at him and start crying like a crazy person.

I picked up the phone and called Laura, needing to speak to someone even though I didn’t want to tell her my news.

It rang four times and I recognized my sister’s voice on the other end, “ _Si_?” She said. I could hear a low voice grumbling in the background. I pictured her snuggled next to Andres in their huge apartment watching a documentary about Spanish people living in other countries. They probably both had a glass of red wine, something that was now temporarily out of my life.

“Laura?” I said.

“ _Si?_ ” She said again.

“ _Hola_. I need to talk to you.”

“What’s up?”

“Where are you?”

“Watching television with Andres. We got off at the same time today!” She sounded excited. “What’s going on?”

“Does he understand Catalan?” I asked her switching from Castellano, our native tongue to my Abuelita’s language. Having a crazy family history was helpful when you had secrets.

“Not really, what’s wrong?” She switched too and began to speak more quickly. 

“Laura,” I started crying before I could speak.

“Mari, you have to let me know what’s wrong. You just can’t call me crying.”

“I don’t know how to tell you this—”

“I’m listening.”

“So you know how I told you I’ve kind of been seeing Sergio Ramos?”

“Yeah. He broke up with you? _Puto_.”

“No. Not yet—I—I—I just found out I’m pregnant and I don’t know what to do.”

There was a long pause.

“María Carmen.”

“Laura, I’m so scared. I’m so scared, I wish that you could be here. I can’t do this.”

“Are you alone right now?” She spoke slowly now, thinking about every word.

“Leah left not too long ago, she went to the doctor with me. She wouldn’t let me go alone, I didn’t want to go. How could I be so stupid? I took a home test three weeks ago and didn’t believe it, so now I’m here, and I’m absolutely fucked, Laura. I can’t do this.”

“Mari, breathe and stop crying, you’re not stupid. Just calm down. How pregnant are you? Three or four weeks, no?”

“She said about ten weeks.”

“ _Joder_ , Mari.” I could sense Andres look at Laura in shock. She rarely swore, “I mean—it will be fine. Did you tell Mama?”

“Are you crazy?”

“Ok—did you tell him?”

“No. I don’t know how, I don’t know what to say.”

“It could be worse, María, you could be having twins.”

I didn’t say anything.

“María?” She said.

“And they’re twins.”

There was a pause on the other end.

“María Carmen, you call Sergio Ramos, and you tell him to come to your apartment right now because you need to speak with him. I don’t care what he’s doing. He can be playing in the Champions League final, but he can stop because you’re pregnant now with not one, but two of his fetuses right now and he is going to speak with you so you two can decide what’s next.”

She sounded so scientific calling whatever they were fetuses. So technical.

“What do I say to him?”

“Oh hey, I’m pregnant with twins and you better consider marrying me. Mari, how did this happen? I thought you were on the pill.”

“Me too.”

“He’s marrying you. He’s not leaving my baby sister alone, not after he’s done this to you. _El coño sevillá_.” She was now speaking quite loudly.

“Laura, _calmate_. I’ve been trying to figure out how this happened all day. I must have forgotten to take a pill or something. It’s my fault too, I didn’t make sure we were always safe which is stupid.”

“You call me all out of breath and crying, and I had no idea what to think you would be telling me. You just scared me so much. I’m taking the train to Madrid on my days off, _vale_? I’m coming to see you, and if he’s there—”

“Sorry. Laura you don’t need to come.”

“I do, you’re my baby sister. How are we going to tell Mama?”

“How am I going to tell her? You aren’t pregnant.”

“I know, but you’re my _hermanita_ , and you’re not doing this alone. Please tell him Maricarmen, and then call me back. I don’t want to have to come up there and kill him. I’ll be in Madrid this weekend. This is a mess I don’t think I can get you out of this time, Mari.”

“This is a mess, my mess Laura. And you’re not killing anyone.”

“Yeah, I know. But tell him. Tell him, or you won’t have a _novio_. Mari. Now. I know people, ok?”

“I love you, Laura.” She was going a little crazy. I needed to settle this because I knew she was fully capable of doing something crazy.

“I love you too. _Ciao_. Tell him, or he will never have any more children with you or anyone else. _Vale_? _Comprendes_?”

“Laura. You’re not cutting anything off.”

“I’m a doctor, I’m allowed to.”

“Yeah, if he has something that needs to be cut off because he’s ill, not just because I’m pregnant with his kid.”

“Kids, plural. Two. Mari, what are you going to do with two?”

“Not helping. If I continue with this you can have one. Or both.”

“No thank you. You should really consider ending it if you're not ready, María. I know someone here who is quite good - it will be over before you know it." 

“How do you know that?”

“I’m a doctor, Mari. But you have to speak to him first.”

“I don’t want to. I just want to get it done with already—if that’s what I want to do.”

“You need a little time to think first. And please tell him and talk to him.”

“I will.”

“I love you, Maricarmen, and I’ll see you soon okay? Let me know how it goes.”

“I love you too, Laura. Ciao.”

As soon as she hung up, I heard the buzzer ring three times, each buzz longer than the first. I got up to answer the phone connected to the front gate’s speaker. It had to be Sergio. I got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen to answer it. “ _Si_?” I said.

“ _Hola_. Let me in. It’s me.”

It was him. The father of my baby—babies. Two. Plural. In their own individual little bubbles floating around in my non existent belly. I thought about how I spent much of the past few weeks drinking an awful lot of wine.

“Ok.”

I considered not pressing the button to unlock the gate, but I did anyway. I opened the door to find him standing there, dressed casually and holding a bag in which I hoped held food because I didn’t feel like cooking and was now too lazy to walk to the _restaurante_ _Chino_. I couldn’t smell any food, but I hadn’t really been able to smell anything recently. “ _Princesa_ ,” He said, kissing me, “I’ve missed you.”

“I saw you this morning,” I said, kissing him again after I closed the door behind him. He was a little stubbly, but that was fine with me.

“For how many seconds?”

“Not enough. What do you have?”

“A few surprises. And we need to talk.”

Tonight would just be full of surprises, big and small and unbelievable. 

“Is it a kitchen surprise?” I was hungry. Knowing that I was actually pregnant immediately made be hungry, like this sixth sense that was dormant for a long time all of a sudden was telling me to eat everything only hours after the doctor gave me the frightening ultrasound picture of the two blobs in black and white. “Wait, what do we need to talk about?”

“Maybe? What have you been up to all day? I haven’t heard from you. The talk isn’t too serious, at least I hope it’s not.”

“Work, and then I went to a doctor’s appointment.”

“Oh? Didn’t you just have one?” I did go to the doctor a couple of weeks ago, but it was the eye doctor because I needed a new box of contacts.

“Yeah, but this was different. The eye doctor isn’t all that serious.”

“Well, are you healthy?”

“I guess, you could say that.” A little healthier than you think, Sergio.

“Do you want to know what’s in the bag first? I’ll show you in a second.”

I hoped it was fried rice and a few egg rolls, which I would not share with him. I followed him into my living room where he sat on his usual spot on the couch.

The couch. Next to the coffee table with the picture and the list and the Aquarius—I looked in horror and tried to quickly evaluate what I could do in the seconds before he would notice what was in front of him.

“You’re going to really love—what is this on the table?”

“What is what?” I tried to sound normal.

Fuck.

I just knew that he had found the ultrasound, the fuzzy picture of the two blobs printed in black and white with ‘A’ and ‘B’ over the silhouettes of each one. I didn’t even want to look at what he was reading. I tried to remember what else was on the coffee table but the picture—and the list. And a copy of _The Daily Mail_ my sister had bought me on her trip to England the week before. She had sent it in the post along with other goodies that reminded me of my childhood visiting my _Abuelitos_ in London like a Cadbury’s Dairy Milk bar and Skittles.

“ _La lista_? My name is on here. SR? Do you know any others?” He had the white paper with my horrible handwriting.

“Oh?” I was surprised and grabbed it from his hands, “It’s nothing, really. I was bored at work and made a list. You’ve never done that before?”

For someone with so many tattoos, you’d think he’d pay more attention to small details.

“I do pay attention to small details, like that shirt looks great on you today. There’s something different about you recently—” He paused, his eyes no longer making contact with mine, but somewhere else a little lower. “Anyway, why can’t I read it?”

I was going to let it go this time. I was pretty sure that he called me fat, but I didn’t want to bring attention to myself. I looked down at the basic v-neck shirt I had picked up from H&M. It was hot pink and my boobs _did_ look huge. They were sticking out a little, something that had never happened to me before. I now had the cleavage I was always envious that Laura had—until they started leaking or something. This explained why they hurt so much the past couple of weeks. I figured it was a side effect of the birth control I had been taking. Some side effect this was. 

“Because it’s personal. How long have I known you? Exactly. And look at my eyes. My face isn’t down here, even though I know exactly where your brain is.” I put my knee between his legs.

“María, why are you being so weird?”

“Because, it’s private,” I put the list in the pocket of my skirt and took the black and white picture from the table and put it there too, “ _Pues venga_.”

I kissed him. Sergio was easily distracted, especially by any form of physical contact. I could brush my fingers against his hands and he would stop thinking about whatever was on his mind and turn all of his attention to me. I understand that his attention was already directed my way, but I didn’t want to answer any questions. Not today.

I hadn’t even really decided if I was going to continue with this pregnancy, but the combination of Catholic and Anglican guilt would probably get to me if I considered anything else. All those years of Sunday School would haunt me for the rest of my life, but it was ultimately my decision anyway. I guess I would let Sergio in on it too, maybe, I didn’t know what was right.

“Your kiss is tense,” he said, narrowing his eyes, “Something isn’t right with you.”

“How would you feel if you went to the gynecologist today?” Another attempt to get him to stop interrogating me: mentioning something extremely feminine and kind of gross.

“I don’t know. Violated? What do they do there anyway?”

“Sometimes stick things in places where they shouldn’t be.”

“Why do you have to go there anyway?”

“Because I’m sleeping with you and they have to make sure I didn’t pick up anything weird.” Like two babies, perhaps?

"So did they say you’re okay then?”

“I’m fine.” Lies. “No more questions. Anyhow, that’s why I’m happy to see you, and I would be better if you would just shut up.”

I kissed him again. This time longer and slower and even more perfect than the first couple times.

“Would you be mad if I cut my hair?”

“What?” I was caught off guard, it was so random.

“No, actually, I think it would suit you very well, Sergito.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you need a change, I’d still like you.” And perhaps a haircut would make you feel a little more grown up and ready for two kids, no?

“No seriously, one more question Marí,” He said letting go and putting his hands around my waist.

“Yes?”

“Who eats chocolate covered _palomitas_? That might be the grossest thing in the entire world.”

“Hungry people who have been on a diet for weeks to fit into a little skinny purple dress to stand pretty next to you eat chocolate covered _palomitas_.”

“Speaking of purple things, I got you something special when I was in Paris.”

He took the bag from by his feet and handed it to me. There were two other bags inside, and I immediately recognized the packaging. Two purses, one a purple Longchamp weekend tote my initials monogrammed on the side. The other was a Louis Vuitton, in classic brown, that I had been eyeing for years. I had promised myself the purse with every promotion, but other things had always gotten in the way. I couldn’t believe it was in my hands and I didn’t know how to react. I didn’t know how Sergio was able to pick out the exact purse I always wanted—then again, this guy was into designers more than I was.

“Do you like them? Your other bag was getting a little old, and I wanted you to have that Louis purse. You have to look better than all the other girls at the club. Plus, I missed you so much when I was away, I had to get you something to make up for it. I love you so much. I don’t say that to everyone, you should know that, Marí. We haven’t been together for too long, but it feels like we’ve known each other forever.”

Four months and twenty-five days, I thought to myself. It was a little longer than that. I had talked to him a few times before through Leah, and…well, if I was being honest with myself it had been four months and twenty-five days since our first date. The doctor said the little blobs were ten weeks, so that was two months and two weeks. In the Maricarmen and Sergio calendar they happened about halfway since we started seeing each other. I needed to remember what I was doing then—I would need to consult my journal and hope that it didn’t say anything stupid or it wasn’t in the in-between period where I forgot to write in it for a few days.

“Maricarmen, hello, are you there?” He said in English. I was immediately broken away from my moment of deep thought, especially because he spoke English. This was very rare.

“Hello?” I said, “I’m here.”

“What is up with you today? Have you heard anything that I’ve said to you in the past few minutes?”

“You said that you love me for real.” I said.

I didn’t know how long this would last, especially after my little _noticias_. I heard Laura’s voice in my head, telling me she’d cut off his manhood if I didn’t tell him about the babies.

“I do love you for real.”

“Randomly, how do you feel about children? I know that you adore your niece, but how do you feel about some of your own?”

Indirectly telling him about it felt better.

“Do you even like kids? Don’t get into anything just for me, María. We’d have to think about it a little longer and make sure it’s the right thing for both of us. We’re both super busy now, you with your awesome job and me and football. I don’t know if now is good. In the future, however, I would love kids. Like a whole bunch running around everywhere.”

It’s too late to think about timing. And he said a whole bunch. Bunches appear in twos, right? But who has ever seen a bunch of grapes with two grapes on it?

“How many is a bunch?”

“I don’t know, like five or six? Why are you asking me about this anyway?”

“I was just wondering, that’s all.”

I blew it.

“Do you want to get started on making a few kids right now? I can’t say we’ll be successful but we can try,” He grabbed my waist, “I have to make sure we’re finished before you have dinner at 10:30.”

“Sergio.”

“Come on,” He whined, “I’ll be gone all weekend for Champions League, so all we have is now.”

“It’s not that I don’t want that it’s—”

This is where my head started going fuzzy and I wanted to start crying, but I wouldn’t. I was tougher than that. I was lying to myself. I am as tough as a cup of ice cream in the sun in Malaga.

“Why are you acting so weird? If there’s something bothering you, tell me, please.”

“I don’t want to tell you.”

“Are you sick? Is that why you went to the doctor? Why don’t you want to tell me? I will still love you the same, María Carmen.”

Heavy breathing. Come on, Maricarmen. Say it.

“You won’t love me the same,” I said instead, making myself sound like I had cheated on him.

“Tell me, please.” His eyes looked sad, concerned, confused, and angry simultaneously.

“I don’t know, it feels like we’ve been seeing a lot of each other recently and it just feels like I need a little bit of space, Sergio. I just need to think a bit.” Not what I was planning on saying.

“Are you breaking up with me, María?” I thought that he would cry.

“ _Por Dios_ , no Sergio, I’m not. It’s just that I feel so distracted right now. There are a million things going on and—the truth is I don’t know. I just recently feel like shit, Sergio.”

"You’ve been really weird recently Mari, I think you’re just super stressed out.”

And pregnant, but you don’t know that.

“Yeah, you can call it that. I feel like I don’t deserve you.”

“Where is this all coming from? Just all of a sudden—it’s like you need a glass of wine or something. We didn’t finish that bottle from the other night—”

“No wine, it’s fine. It’s stress—yeah.” I exhaled loudly. “I don’t handle stress well at all.”

“Why didn’t you say that instead of speaking like you wanted to break up.”

“I don’t know. I love seeing you every day, but I just get super anxious about stuff.”

“Like what?”

“Stuff that doesn’t matter—I don’t know.”

“Can I at least make you dinner so you have one less thing to do? Or we can go out to eat?”

“I don’t have much of an appetite.” Compulsively lying now.

“Oh please, Mari. You haven’t eaten for the past few weeks and I know that you haven’t. Besides, your stomach was growling five minutes ago.”

It was, and growling for three.

“I don’t want anything fancy. Let’s just order in from the Chinese place.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Spicy rice and a Fanta _limón_. That will make me feel better.”

“You usually say that I make you feel better too,” he said, sounding disappointed.

“You do,” I said, finally trying to relax instead of sounding like the crazy girlfriend. “I just act like this sometimes, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t like you like this, letting you know.”

“I don’t like me like this.” I let him kiss me.

I’d let him know soon. Right now my head wasn’t wired on straight, and I was in no position to share news like this, but he needed to know because I was running out of time.  


	17. Chapter 17

**Sergio -**

“Something is up with her, and I have no idea what it is.”

I was walking to the garage with Iker, trying to see if he had any insight to how strange María had been acting recently.

“She’s keeping something from me, I know it. It’s like she won’t tell me until I fess up about what happened the last time I was with Isa,” I continued.

“Sergio, that was a mistake what happened with Isa.” Said Iker.

“Nothing is a mistake with Isa. The worst part was that I enjoyed that kiss. I wanted to hate it, but something about it felt good to me. I’ve been thinking about what happened every day since that, especially now that Maricarmen’s been acting really strange.”

“You said she’s been really busy at work, right?”

“Yeah, she just got a promotion on top of all the other extra stuff she was already doing.”

“You just happen to be the person at the end of her stress, I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

“Maybe I should tell her about what happened with Isa then?”

“Why?”

“I swear she knows something is up, that’s why.”

* * *

“This isn’t how I thought I’d say hello to you.”

Maricarmen sat across from me in a gorgeous purple dress with her hair pinned in a bun. She avoided eye contact, kitchen towel in hand as I put a glass of ice-cold sparkling water in front of her. Within seconds of me letting her into my house she had thrown up. Unfortunately for me, it was all over my new, crisp white oxford that was supposed to go perfectly with the thin light purple tie I bought to compliment Maricarmen’s dress. We were off to have dinner with my family in about an hour, and she seemed in no state to have to deal with anyone new, especially my mother.

“María, I wish you’d figure out what’s been making you so sick recently,” I said, sitting next to her. I was now in just an undershirt and felt her bare shoulder. It felt warm, bordering hot. She was ill and not letting me know what was up. “You’ve been ill for weeks. Do you want me to go to the doctor with you.”

She looked at me, eyes narrowed, and breathed heavily.

“Sergio, I already know that you won’t love me the same, and I didn’t want it to be like this. I—”

“You’re breaking up with me for real this time?” I felt my heart drop.

“No. You might want to break up with me though.”

“What is it? If you’re sick, you can tell me.”

“Promise me you won’t hate me,” she said slowly.

“I can’t hate you, María.” She  _was_  seeing someone else. I knew it.

“I’m pregnant, Sergio. Pregnant. The throwing up, the weird mood, the not eating and then wanting to eat everything, the huge boobs, the fucking up your shirt this afternoon, the everything else—that’s what I found out a couple weeks ago. That’s what’s been wrong with me. The day you came over and I was acting all weird, that’s when I found out. I wanted to tell you, but couldn’t. This isn’t what I want. I don’t want this. This isn’t supposed to be my life. I am now a big time public relations executive at one of the biggest firms in Europe, I am self-centered, I wear high heels and skinny dresses, like going to the  _discoteca_ , I sometimes take two siestas, I have a stuffed dog named Peluche, I like chocolate  _palomitas_ and call my big sister to get me out of my messes—I am not fit to be anyone’s mother, especially the mother of your children because you are too good for me. If you want to leave me, that’s fine.”

She lost me after the first two words.

“You’re what?”

“I’m pregnant. I even have the picture.”

“María, are you serious?”

She was now crying, some of the tears tinted with the color of her eyeliner.

“Calm down. You can’t be that pregnant anyway,” I said.

“Wrong. 12 weeks,” she said sharply.

“So that’s like three months-ish? Dios mío. It could be worse. It’s ok. We have time to figure this out. It’s not like we’re having twins.”

Her eyes widened hugely. “ _Joder_ , you’re kidding me.”

“I just can’t win. My sister Laura said _coño_ , Leah said it could be worse, and your vote is _joder_. We’re screwed, aren’t we?”

“We’ll be fine, just breathe. It’s fine.”

“I don’t want this. I just want a fucking abortion and it will all be over and we can go back to normal. I don’t want to meet your Mum either when I’m like this.”

“We have to talk this through. You aren't thinking like yourself.”

“It’s my body, Sergio. You’re not stuck with them.”

“What kind of guy do you think I am, María? I’m going to assume your hormones are talking because you know I wouldn’t just leave you. I helped create this mess, so I’m staying. I love you pregnant or not, but I prefer it when you’re being rational. We need to decide what makes the most sense for the both of us. Why didn’t you tell me earlier so we could talk about this like regular people?”

“We’re not regular people. You are Sergio fucking Ramos the footballer and I am just this girl who happens to have a good PR job, comes from a nice family, and have just ruined everything. I’ve ruined us, I’ve ruined work, I’ve ruined what my mother will think—”

“María.”

I didn’t know what to do but pull my chair next to her and hug her tightly, feeling the tears fall onto my skin. She was so warm now, and I could feel her frustration float over to me. This wasn’t what I wanted, but it wasn’t the end of the world. I’d definitely keep my Isa business to myself though.

“I can’t go to that dinner like this,” she mumbled.

“You have to meet my Mama, she’s been waiting to see you.”

“I can’t. Tell her I’m sick.”

“You’re not sick, you’re—” I couldn’t say it.

“I’m what?”

“You’re pregnant. _Dios mio_ , you’re pregnant, Mari.” It hit me that I was all of a sudden responsible for something else that I couldn’t see, but they existed somewhere inside my hysterical girlfriend who had ruined my new shirt and couldn’t think straight today.

“How long is your family here?”

“A couple days and they’re staying in a hotel so we only have to see them a couple hours and then I will be yours all evening to make sure you’re feeling okay. I have plenty of sparkling water for your stomach and _galletas_ Maria for you too.”

“Promise not to say anything about this, please.”

“I won’t, but they’re going to have to know at some point.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“Neither can I, but we’ll be fine together, Maricarmen, I promise you I’m not going anywhere. I really want to make this work—and if you keep them—if that’s what you want - they will never have to worry about anything because they’ll have us. If no one else in the world wants to help, or cares, or they’re all mad it doesn’t matter—I’ve never loved anyone like I love you, Mari, and I know that you’re more than capable of being an amazing mama.”

“Don’t make me cry again.” She already was, her mascara dripping along the sides of her face. We were both currently a mess and in no shape for a fancy dinner downtown.

“I didn’t mean to, I—I know you always say I’m not the most eloquent, but I thought that I needed to tell you that now because we’re running out of time. I’m not ready for this, but we can be ready.”

“It’s the worst timing ever though. You’re off to the Euro in the summer, I’ll be doing God knows what for the PR office—”

“When are you due?” I cut her off.

“June 11th.”

“So you got pregnant in September—that’s right after I met you.”

“Pretty much.”

“And that’s around the time you were doing the photo shoots when it was still warm outside.”

“Exactly.”

“I still don’t understand how this happened.”

“Let’s see, I don’t know, we happen to have a whole bunch of sex all of the time, don’t we?”

“I mean, I understand how it  _happened_  like that, but I guess it’s when.”

“If you figure it out, let me know.”

“I really don’t like you like this, María.”

“How else am I supposed to be?” She crossed her arms.

“This is shit, I understand, and you’re absolutely allowed to be upset and be mad at me because I’m responsible for this too, but it’s not the end of the world.”

“It’s so easy for you to say that.”

“It’s not like either of us or incapable of taking care of a baby, María. We are both more than financially secure to take care of a whole bunch of babies. We both have families who love us. We both have a great group of friends here and everywhere else. I have a house and the ranch in the country here in Madrid, you have a huge apartment, and if you want twenty nannies, we can have that. If you wanted to move in to make it easier, fine, but only if you are the Maricarmen, my Mari that I love. I miss her, and that Mari is the one I want to be with and the one I want to be the mother to my children. She’s the one I want to introduce to my Mama, the girl who is far too smart and beautiful for me but loves me anyhow.”

Maricarmen exhaled loudly, the tears still falling. I could tell that she was right though, and in no way fit to meet anyone related to me.

“Because I love you, I’ll tell my Mama that you aren’t coming—that we’re rescheduling for tomorrow,” I said, knowing I’d have an earful on the phone.

“Don’t cancel for me,” she said quietly.

“I’m canceling for me too—I feel like I’m getting a headache.”

“Sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. It took both of us to get into this—and you look like you’re going to be sick again.”

She nodded, putting one of her hands over her mouth as I got up quickly to get the trashcan hiding under the double burners on the island in the middle of my kitchen. I looked away as soon as I put it into her lap—yes I am easily queasy with stuff like this.  I couldn’t imagine being as sick as Maricarmen seemed from one little mistake that turned into two massive responsibilities.

“Lista?” I looked at Maricarmen who seemed to not be done with her episode, her eyes bloodshot and tired. I imagined her stomach ached too. I turned my head again until I heard her stop, and then the sound was replaced by her crying again.

I put the can on the floor and could only think to kiss her forehead. “ _Nena_ ,” I said.

“Make it go away,” she cried. “Just make it all stop.”

“I—if—if that’s what you want, if you think that’s the only way that we can be happy again, then—” I was about to tell her something that I didn't want to. “I support your decision, María.”

“What decision?”

“To end it. Schedule the appointment and I’ll go with you. I'll go tomorrow.”

She looked at me blankly, the tears not stopping. “You’re fucking lying Sergio, I know it.”

“I’m not because I’d rather do that than have you hate me forever and create something that has to enter the world out of guilt and not love, María. It's ultimately your decision.”

“And I know you’re lying because you’re too loving to  _ever_  even consider anything like that. You would rather take care of them alone, spoil them, buy them a million horses, even send them to Sevilla with you Mum before getting rid of them. You’re too loving because you’d support my decision even though I can tell it’s killing you to even let that consideration cross your mind. You love too much, which is a huge reason why I don’t deserve you.”

“Just stop. Stop it María.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop all of this talk. I love you, and since I love you I’m willing to support any decision that you make—even if I don’t necessarily agree with it.” My voice was softer than usual.

I was trying to convince myself that this was true. In all honesty, I was willing to take care of what I felt like was my responsibility, taking care of whatever was currently inside Maricarmen. Then again, she was right, it was her body, her six months left of being as miserable as she was now. If going to the doctor and ending her pregnancy was what was necessary to get my sensible, smart, and mainly happy girlfriend back, then I was willing to do what I needed to do to support her.

“This—this is just a lot to process,” I continued. “And on top of that, we don’t have a lot of time at all to make a decision. So, when you’re feeling better and within the next few days I need to know your decision María Carmen. I’ve already told you mine, that I’ll support whatever you want to do.” It still hurt to say it, but I meant it genuinely. 

“Sergio, I can tell in your eyes and how you’re speaking that you really want me to keep them.” She made direct eye contact with me the entire time she spoke for the first time all night.

“But what do you want to do?”

“I want the easy way out, which is impossible either way at this point. If it was a couple weeks, yeah, I’d have no problem doing it, but they’re around three months and I'm almost past the first trimester makes it really complicated. I just don’t want to feel horrible my entire life, but I don’t want to be anyone’s mother either.”

“I don’t want to force you into anything. You need to choose, Mari.”

“Yeah, but it took  _both_  of us to get into this mess, so I feel like you shouldn’t just agree to whatever I want.”

“Who are you?” I shook my head.

“Someone who is in denial that they’re pregnant—very pregnant at this point. Coño, Sergio, and I can’t—I just can’t know that I stopped you from being able to love them. I’ve seen you with your niece, and you two are perfect. I can’t imagine how you would be with them but even better than you are with her. I can’t stop you from cuddling them, buying them their first miniature horses, kicking a football, their first Fería—”

“María, end of the week, let me know what you decide. We’re not talking about this anymore.”

“Okay.”

“I still love you, by the way, if you were wondering.” I exhaled.

“I’ll let you know by tomorrow.”

“No more. I’m calling my Mama, taking an aspirin and then possibly taking a nap. You’re welcome to join me if you want to as long as you don’t throw up any more because that’s gross.”

“No guarantees.”

I gave her a quick kiss on her forehead again and got up to call my mother in the other room.


	18. Chapter 18

**Maricarmen -**

It was like overnight that I went from being unnoticeably pregnant to being extremely self-conscious, feeling that everyone knew what my deal was. I was happy that it was the middle of winter and wearing lots of layers was perfectly acceptable. In my head, if I didn’t think about it, I would suddenly be back to my normal skinny self, only worried about buying my next purse, having to take photos for Adriana, and having really aggressive hook up sessions with Sergio in strange places.

Now I found myself only thinking about eating a million María cookies and drinking sparkling water because those were the two things I could consume without getting sick. Each time I looked in the mirror I felt a lot larger. I’d turn to the side and see my middle sticking out more and more with each glance, making my head hurt every time I had another look. My clothes more or less felt the same, and my sister told me that it was all in my head. The only positive that I could see right now was the leggings that would be in my future. Maybe. 

I thought long and hard about actually going through with having an abortion, scheduling an appointment and recruiting Leah to go talk to the doctor with me. I only had a couple weeks to decide to get it done in Spain and it all felt wrong. If I was only a few weeks pregnant, yeah, it would be so much easy for it to be over with but by then it was more or less week 12. In the back of my head I was okay with it, I was definitely capable of being a mother in all of the other senses but mental. I didn't want to live with something that I didn't want for the rest of their lives at all - but then there was the other side too. 

My doctor explained everything and all I could think about was how disappointed Sergio would be. She was calm and reminded me that it was ultimately my decision, as did Leah.

If I terminated it, it would probably be the end of us too.

I knew how much it hurt him to tell me that everything would be okay if I decided to do this. I was lucky. I had a boyfriend who I knew would support me. Last guy I dated, I think it would be a no brainer for what I’d do. This one, my Sergio, I saw his heart break into a million tiny pieces when I went on my rant about needing to end it. I wasn’t one of those people who fell in love with a couple of fuzzy circles on a monitor. I should have never looked at that picture or let this go so long in the first place. My tears weren’t for excitement that first doctor’s appointment, but because I felt the end of my young adult life ending before my eyes. I’m selfish and everyone knows it.

If it wasn’t for Sergio and all of his love I’d be able to make this decision in a flash. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t hurt him.

I left having to admit to myself for the first time that I was actually pregnant and in about six months I’d be responsible for two things that were partially me and partially someone else. It was scary, but plenty of other people had done it before.

My sister Laura arrived not too far after the big decision for a couple days with a box of a million different vitamins and some _empanadas de carne_ I liked from a bakery by her house in Granada. She also had the honor to be the first person in my family to meet Sergio, trying her best to be nice to him. Lucky, Laura.

“If I didn’t know how much you love this guy, I would still be very tempted to kill him,” she said before he was supposed to come over. I wasn’t feeling like dinner, but I knew between the two of them they’d drag me somewhere where I’d pick at my food and Sergio would eventually finish it.

“Please don’t kill him because I’m  _not_  doing this by myself,” I said, reaching for my wine glass that was filled with sparkling water mixed with grape juice on the coffee table. This was going to be a very lame, very dry half of a year without my wine. I could at least pretend I was drinking some.

“You wouldn’t be anyway. They have me, and Mama, and everyone else.”

“Everyone else who has no idea that I’m pregnant, Laura. Everyone else who doesn’t live in Madrid.”

“They’ll know soon. You’re already showing, sorry to break it to you  _Campanilla_ ,” she said, calling me my childhood nickname, the flowers that were tattooed on my skin.

“How?”

“Your boobs are huge. And I can't wait for you to have a belly. It'll be so cute." 

“It’s not.”

“I’m excited to be a _Tia_ , Mari. But I thought I’d have a baby before you, just saying. I mean, Andres wants one but I’m not ready for it.”

“Are you sure? Because I’m having two and you’re more than welcome to take one and get the second one for free. I can say I’m your surrogate then, and won’t feel as slutty.”

“You’re not slutty, María.”

“Tell that to Mama, Laura.”

“It’s not like she’s perfect either. No one is.”

“You are, and you’ve always been,” I said, stopping myself from crying like I did when I was ten.

“Maricarmen, you know that’s not true.”

“It is. I’ve always thought you were perfect Laura.”

“That’s because you’re my little sister and there were a few things that I never wanted to tell you since I still see you like my little baby that I had to take care of at school, Mari. I always wanted to be more like you instead of being so boring and predictable.”

“You’re not boring, you’re the smartest person I know and have a perfect life with your doctor husband in Granada and you’re pretty and—”

She narrowed her eyes, “Please. You’re dating a footballer, Mari. You have that amazing PR job, you’re now a model, this nice place that you bought with your own money and hard work, you’ve got a degree from Compultense—I think you’re doing pretty well.”

“Yeah, for only a few months, and because I can’t even take a pill every day I’m pregnant, Laura. I’m ruining all of my nice stuff because of a small mistake that’s now a big mess. I’m not going to model anymore now and it will take forever to be skinny again.”

“Not true. Mama got skinny really quickly after having four kids, Mari.”

“Yeah, and she was married so no one cared or thought that she was slutty or that she got pregnant because she was trying to trap her footballer boyfriend.”

“It’s 2013. What decade are you living in?”

“I know—but I just didn’t think this is how it would be. I’m barely twenty-five. And you know the moment the press finds out about this they’re going to assume that. Sergio was dating another girl not too long ago, and I run into her all the time.”

“You also finished school in three years, you speak three and a half languages, and you’re beautiful too, Maricarmen. You’re lots of things and now you’ll just have to share everything with the  _gemelos_. You’ll live. Don’t worry about her, he’s only worried about you.”

“I’m not used to that. He loves me too much. He said that if I wanted an abortion he’d go to the doctor with me even though I could tell in his eyes that he was lying to me because he could never ever just end something like that. He was willing to allow me to do whatever I wanted because he loves me—and I don’t think I deserve him.”

The tears fell now, and I reached for my glass forgetting it was a sad excuse for wine. My hormones were making me a horrible mess. Laura looked at me wide eyed, reaching for her glass too, but hers was filled with real wine. I told her to finish the bottle from Sevilla that I had been drinking until the day I found out I was actually pregnant with Leah. After three months of drinking the way I usually did, I figured whatever was inside me would be born with half a brain at this point.

“María Carmen Navas de la Cruz, por favor, I cannot deal with you like this at all.”

“I can’t deal with myself.”

“Here, let’s make a deal. If you stop acting so depressing, I’ll be nice to Sergio.”

“What kind of deal is that? Besides, I think you’ll like him. We’re stuck with him forever at this point, you know, so you better be nice. I need him to stick around and not leave me because my doctor sister is threatening to cut him up.”

“I’d never cut anything off, I’d just consider making him incapable of reproducing.”

“You know how to do that?”

“I could figure it out.”

“Can you tell that there’s anything in there, like do you feel different?”

“If feeling different means vomiting every twenty minutes then yes.”

Laura rolled her eyes. “I just can’t believe that there’s two growing inside of you, Mari.”

“Same.”

“And don’t forget that I’m a phone call and a train ride away either, especially the bigger you get. I can’t wait until you have a proper belly and everything—I’m going to be such a great _Tía._ ”

“You can have them, you know. Both of them. No one will have to know that I’m their mother.”

“No thanks. I’d rather be a _Tía_. Besides, when the time is right I’ll have my own. I wonder what Mama is going to say about this.”

“She won’t have to say anything. She’ll just give me the eyes of disappointment. Then she’ll say that she’s too young to be an _abuelita_.”

“Which isn’t true. Besides, she had me at your age.”

“Yeah, and she was married to Papi and they lived together and that was a different time.”

“Nothing is going to make you feel better about this is it? We know people at home who have three kids by your age.”

I shook my head. “Nope, other than time travel—and those people are stupid.”

“You know that Mami was pregnant with me when they got married, Mari.” 

“No?” I was surprised. I guess I never really thought about it.

“I couldn’t have been born that healthy and big without her being pregnant already which is why I think Mami will be fine with it. I figured it out and asked her when I was a teenager about it because the dates didn’t line up.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Mari, sometimes I wonder what you think about. Besides, I think it’s best if you tell Mami at some point.”

“I guess, but I still just don’t want to upset her.”

“She’ll support you because she loves you Mari. You’re so much like her anyway.”

“Everyone says that and it’s only because I’m brown like she is.”

“No, it’s because you’re more of a free spirit and not afraid to be yourself, María. You’re adventurous and still on top of everything. You’re my baby sister and have all the traits I wish I had.”  

* * *

**Sergio -**

Maricarmen always mentioned her older sister Laura and how smart and beautiful she was. It wasn’t until she was sitting across from me that I could see that everything her little sister said about her was true. They were opposites, Maricarmen with her honey brown colored skin, dark brown eyes, and curly hair and Laura who was about five shades lighter with greenish brown eyes and light brown hair that went to her shoulders. Maricarmen was loud and teased me since the day we started dating. Laura had this seriousness to her and thought out everything that left her mouth, serious or funny. She had the same smile as Maricarmen and their laugh was extremely similar.

“Tell me why I should be okay with you dating my little sister,” said Laura.

“He’s not very articulate.” Said Maricarmen, poking me in the thigh. I think it was a sign that meant ‘be impressive.’

“Because I genuinely love her—she gets me, we like the same things, and I enjoy it when she teases me. I think that Mari is perfect. I think the past week or so has helped me see that I really love her.”

“How so?” Laura asked. She should have been a lawyer instead.

“That’s enough questions, Laura,” interrupted Maricarmen.

“I want to know, María.”

“You’ve learned enough, Laura. I love him too, done.”

“You’re stuck with her forever, you know.”

“I know, and that’s what I want—I just didn’t think it would happen this quickly,” I said.

“That means you have less time to learn Catalan then.”

“What?”

“We can’t just let our language die, the twins will have to learn it at home. Our papa learned Catalan to impress our mother, just saying.”

“Laura,” Maricarmen said, widening her eyes.

“I can only do one thing at a time; I’m learning English now,” I said, quite proudly. I needed a lot of practice, but I was really trying.

“You should consider it, I’m just saying,” said Laura. “Besides, I knew you liked her a lot when you voluntarily went to see those little brats of hers. They are the absolute worst.”

“Brats? My Sevillanas class?” Said Maricarmen.

“Yes, they’re horrible.”

“I enjoyed it, but they were really stressful. They asked really weird questions to the both of us the entire time,” I said, remembering how ridiculous that memory was.

“My kids aren’t stressful—they were just convinced that he was my boyfriend at the time,” added Maricarmen.

“He wasn’t?” Said Laura.

“Not at that point—shit, I didn’t even think of how this is going to mess up my class. I’m going to have to tell the Mums.”

“You can still teach Sevillanas pregnant, Mari.”

“Pregnant with twins?”

“I doubt you’ll get that big. Mami said she was never too big and I remember no one believed she was pregnant with the twins.”

“Stop with the girl talk,” I said, scrunching my nose and feeling grossed out.

“If you’re afraid of girl talk wait until I have two things come out of—” Maricarmen said, teasing me.

“Stop, you’re going to make me sick.” I reached for the glass of wine in front of me, a Sevillan red I brought over. At the rate we were drinking were drinking we would never make it to our dinner reservation at 10. After each one asked a difficult question I’d take a sip. I could tell Maricarmen really wanted a glass of wine.  

“Not as sick as I feel watching you two,” said Laura smiling for one of the first times tonight. “You have to promise to take perfect care of my baby sister and we can talk about football.”

“I do, if you give me permission to take care of her,” I said, taking Maricarmen’s hand and squeezing it tightly.

“You can—I like you, Sergio.”

“Thanks?”

“No more interrogating, please,” said Maricarmen.

“I’ll stop, but you just can’t start walking around in Madrid jerseys or I will die,” said Laura.

“I got her one and she won’t wear it,” I said.  

“I’m not going to convert my football team for my boyfriend, sorry,” Said Maricarmen.

I felt more relaxed that we had moved on to lighter conversation. Arguing about soccer made me feel more comfortable instead of thinking about being María being pregnant, something that was becoming a larger and larger part of my life—and hers, literally.

“The twins will be Madridistas though.”

“No they won’t, they will be Malaga supporters. Laura brought me two baby jerseys already, didn’t she?”

“I did,” said Laura, nodding her head and smiling hugely now. “Besides, blue and white looks so much better.”

“This isn’t happening right now,” I said. “You two are ganging up on me and I don’t like it.”

“Get used to it,” Maricarmen said before giving me a quick kiss. “I love you,” She whispered to me in Catalan, and I got it immediately.

“I love you too,” I said back quietly, “And I understood you for once too.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Sergio -**

We drove out to my ranch to visit the horses because Maricarmen kept asking to see them. Most of my pets stayed out here, the two horses and four dogs I kept in Madrid. She came dressed in her riding gear, wearing her tall, brown leather boots and a navy blazer. I noticed her middle for the first time, an extremely small, perfectly rounded bump that was where the twins were beginning to grow. You had to look really hard, but I told myself that I could see something. Maricarmen didn’t have another doctor’s appointment until the 18th week, which was when she said we’d find out the sexes of the twins. Between now and then I tried to occupy myself thinking about football, which included a game in Málaga, which meant that I’d inevitably meet someone related to Maricarmen. Introducing myself to the Navas family as not only Maricarmen’s boyfriend, but the father to not one but two of her unborn children made me anxious. 

While I kept telling her that I wanted two boys, I really wanted a daughter to spoil. I worried she’d be as beautiful as her mother and that I’d have to kill a few boys in the future for wanting to date her, but the twins weren’t even more than fuzzy grey shapes on a black piece of paper. We were at the start of week 15, and I was growing more anxious by the day, as was Maricarmen. I decided it was a good time to bring her to the country to see the animals because I knew that one of the two things she loved the most were horses. Even though it was relatively cold, I knew it would be nice to take a break, have a nice dinner, and spend the rest of our evening cuddled up together in front of the fireplace in my ranch house.  

“I’m pretty sure that I can ride them, Sergio,” said Maricarmen petting the horse’s mane.

This was my girl, Luna, the Spanish horse that I bought a few years ago. She’s a dark brown color with a long, silky black mane. One of my cousins who takes care of the place trains her for competition. I already started looking for a new horse to buy when the twins are here, perhaps a pair of miniature ones, or at least a pony for them to get started.

“No, I looked online and they said it was best for you not to ride.”

“This sucks,” she said, taking the brush from my hand and she began to run it through Luna’s mane. I knew she sometimes would occupy her attention to something else when she didn’t want to look at me.  

“Before you know it, you’ll be back riding again. It’s just what’s safest for you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Yeah, yeah. I didn’t think being pregnant would keep me from doing everything that I like.”

“Everything?”

“Well, except for you Sergio.” She gave me a quick kiss.

“How are you?”

We hadn’t had a real conversation in a few days. She was busy with work and I had an away match on Saturday against Bilbao. We were both off this Sunday, and I wanted Maricarmen to enjoy it as much as possible, pregnant or not. She was asleep for most of the car ride, even with me playing a bunch of music and sometimes singing a long.

“Better. Still not completely believing that we’ll have twins right before the Euro. I’m more upset that I’m probably going to miss the tournament. I was looking forward to it.” She shook her head.

“Just have them in May.” It was possible, right?

“I just can’t ask them to come in May, Sergio. It’s not like a dinner party or something. Oh hey twins, come out in May and be all small because your Papi wants Mum to go to the Euro.”

“Are you really going to refer to yourself as Mum, Mari?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I can be someone’s Mama. Besides, my mother is Mama already.”

“You are, and you definitely can be.”

“I’m so over this already.” She crossed her arms.

“We’ll be able to have fun again soon, María.”

“Like ride horses and drink wine?”

“Yeah, and sex in weird places.” I thought out loud because it would be amazing to try something different while we were out here. Perhaps literally roll in the hay.

“Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I’m signing a pledge of celibacy, Sergio.”

“I don’t know if I feel comfortable with the entire idea of it while you’re pregnant though,” I said, feeling my face beginning to heat up. "Like I know we've done it, but it's still weird." 

“Why else did you bring me out to the ranch?” She crossed her arms, horse brush in hand.

“To see the animals and to spend time with you.”

“This is a perfect hook up spot. It’s beautiful, it’s quiet, no one else is here.”

“We’re the only ones here—for now. One of my cousins stays out here most days to take care of the horses and dogs.”

“I’m not ready to meet your family,” she said. “I’m going to be sick. Oh hey, I’m Maricarmen and I’m almost noticeably pregnant.”

“My cousin is a guy, thank you. He won’t notice anything.”

“You’re way too calm about this entire thing, Sergio. If it wasn’t for you I’d definitely be on top of this horse right now riding away.”

“You look really hot in your riding gear, by the way.”

“Oh, thanks,” she smiled for one of the first times. “I figured you’d like to see me dressed like this. I bet you have weird dreams involving horses and me anyway, Sergio. Don’t answer that question either.”

“You wish. I know you have weird dreams about me too.”

“Please. I dream about your teammates. If Leah wasn’t dating Cristiano, I would have hooked up with him already.” I knew she wasn’t serious by her tone.

“Whatever, Mari. Are you coming with me to Malaga for the game next week?”

“Is that a question? Yeah. It’s an excuse to eat my mother’s cooking for a weekend.” She froze, eyes wide. “ _Coño_ , then I have to tell her about this.”

“You should probably do so soon so I can tell my family as well. I can’t unless you’re okay with it.”

“We need to soon because I looked up belly pictures online and I’m going to be gigantic soon, like whale like and it’s going to be horrible. I’m going to have to buy the jeans with the elastic,  _dios mio_.”

“You’ll still be sexy,” I took her into my arms, causing her to drop the horse’s brush next to us.

“You’re saying that now. Just wait.”

“I can’t wait to see you pushing them about in the double stroller with a tiny dress on, sunglasses, and your hair tied up in a bun on your way to the park.”

“And a Louis Vuitton diaper bag?” She didn’t know I already ordered her one on the Internet.

“Of course.”

“These are the things you think about. Are you sure you’re straight?”

“Not answering that either. We wouldn’t be in the situation we’re in now if I wasn’t, would we?”

“Not necessarily. Besides, you’re pushing the stroller, especially in the off-season because I’ll be at work, thank you very much. And probably in the gym trying to get my core back.”

“You know there’s a gym at my place.”

“I know. I’m not ready to move in with you, Sergio. It’s too soon. Maybe when the twins are here, but I don’t want to ruin us.”

“It’s something to think about when they’re here. I’m excited to figure out the nursery and everything.”

“Football themed.”

“Naturally, for two boys.”

“Girls can like football too. Our daughters will both be playing.” She looked at me and smiled like herself for once. “It’s like I’m starting to realize all of this is real.”

“It is. We’ll survive, _nena._ Come on,” I kissed her lightly and took her hand. “Let’s go to the ranch house. There’s dinner waiting for us.”

“When did you cook? You got me after work and training.”

“I didn’t, and don’t worry about it.”  

“I can’t ride for a second?” Said Maricarmen, changing the subject back to the horses.

“Did you ask the doctor about it?”

“No, but nothing will happen. Only from here to there and you can walk alongside it like I’m eight. I need this for me, Sergio.”

“This makes me so nervous, I don’t know, Mari. It doesn’t seem safe, you haven’t ridden Luna before.”

“But you’re here and she’s already ready to go. One quick ride.”

“Five minutes.”

“Kay. I love you, you know,” she said walking over to the bag she brought that held her helmet.

Maricarmen had come over with the intent of riding whether I wanted her to or not. One thing I learned through being with her was she was determined to do something that no one could stop her.

I touched Luna’s nose, saying softly to her, “Please be gentle.”

“Ready. Help me up.”

I helped lift Maricarmen onto Luna’s back, sitting in the saddle and her boots placed in the stirrups. She pet Luna’s mane, speaking to the horse, telling her it was okay and it was only going to be a quick ride.

“You’re not going to let me ride alone,” said Maricarmen turning to me. I held the lead attached to Luna that was usually reserved for when my niece came to visit.

“Nope.” I could feel my stomach drop, watching her on top of Luna. But, at the same time her smile was amazing and she looked like herself. She, even for a few minutes, was the girl I was in love with.

“ _Vamos, por favor_. You’re taking too long. I tell you that about everything.”

“Whatever. Just remember that when you’re asking me for other things later tonight.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I already know you’ll take forever.”

“ _Vamos_ , Luna girl,” I said, catching Maricarmen off guard and leading the horse next to me. She began walking slowly out of the barn and into my small dusty riding arena.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Me? I’m perfect,” said Maricarmen looking down at me, holding on to Luna’s reins.

I walked around with her, holding Luna’s rope tightly and only allowing the horse to move very slowly. Once I got her to come to a stop, I took off the rope, keeping my hand on Luna’s cheekpiece. 

“What are you doing?” Asked Maricarmen, looking down at me.

“Just go around the circle a few times, not too quickly. She’s pretty calm. Just be gentle and she won’t do anything crazy.” My heart wasn’t’ allowing me to think straight.

“You don’t want me to do this, I know this look, Sergio.”

“And you don’t want to be pregnant and you’re doing it for me, María Carmen.”

She closed her eyes for a few seconds and opened them again. Usually Maricarmen would have something to say back, but this time she didn’t.

“Just go for a quick ride, okay? I’ll have one of my eyes open. Luna’s a good girl, you’ll be fine.”

“Have I told you that I love you today, because I do,” said Maricarmen before commanding Luna to go.

She rode away, not too quickly, but definitely not as slowly as I wanted. In that moment I realized that sometimes you have to let people get what they want because you love them. My sacrifice was minor, allowing my girlfriend to get a few minutes of one of her favorite activities. She made a decision what was about more than ten minutes of feeling uncomfortable because of what I wanted.

I stood with the rope in my hands as the light wind blew some of the dust in the arena around me, allowing my thoughts to consume me instead of paying attention to Maricarmen riding away.

After about ten minutes, I was greeted by Luna and Maricarmen, the horse standing right in front of me and my girlfriend looking beautiful as ever on top of her.

“That was fast,” I said, petting Luna’s nose.

“I—yeah—you said five minutes and I took about ten.”

“Ride her into the barn and into the house, yeah?”

“I don’t know if I’ll make it to the barn, Sergio.”

“Why not?”

“Because at this moment in time, I’m feeling quite ill.”

“No.”

I tied the rope back onto Luna, using my other hand to help support Maricarmen as she dismounted her. I was used to this scene now, the getting sick at almost every moment of the day. I wasn’t going to let her get sick all over me today, not again.

“Can you make it to the barn?”

“Yeah, just really fast,” she was out of breath.

We walked quickly, horse beside us to go back inside the stable, and the first thing I could find was a metal bucket by the doors. I handed it to Maricarmen before putting Luna back into her spot. It was time for her to have dinner. 

I could hear whatever was going on with María and it made me feel nauseous too. I hoped whatever this was would end fairly quickly.

“You okay?” I asked, to now see Maricarmen sitting in some of the hay with the bucket in front of her.

She shook her head, looking a bit pale, her hand situated on top of her small, but ever emerging bump.

“Can I make it better?” I walked over and sat next to her, trying to look away from the bucket.

“You already did. Of course the sickness would come back when I was on the horse though. I wanted a few more minutes.”

“Well, now you know where the barn is so we can come out whenever.”

“Yeah, yeah. Everything hurts right now though.”

“Let’s go inside. It’s cold now, anyway.” I put my arms around her and could feel that Maricarmen’s body was quite warm. I wondered if she should go to the doctor before her next appointment to see if there was a way to make her less miserable. 

“I can’t get up yet. I can't move.” I could see the pain in her eyes.

“Let me know when you’re ready then.”

“I just don’t want you to let go of me because when you hold me like this everything seems to feel better,” She began to fight back the tears.

“Okay.” I needed to be calm for her. 

“I feel like something is wrong, Sergio,” she whispered. “Something is terribly wrong, but I’m too afraid to find out what it is.” 

When she said those words, I could feel my heart almost stop beating.


	20. Chapter 20

**Maricarmen -**

“Last night scared me.” 

I woke up in my bed, in my apartment with my head pounding and my stomach feeling like it was tying itself in knots. I turned over thought of a few of my favorite curse words in Catalan, and resisted putting the blankets over my head. The people in the room obviously didn’t notice because they didn’t address me. I kept my eyes closed, not wanting them to stop talking because I enjoyed good gossip, even when it was about me.

“She’s still really hot—like her body is really warm.” It was Sergio still speaking, awkwardly as usual. “She’s been asleep all day.”

My friends were taking turns babysitting me. Carolina worked weird hours today, and came over when Sergio left for training. Leah was supposed to come after she finished her lunchtime news show. Now I had my sister, Laura back from Granada, sitting on the side of my bed. Her hand was freezing as she touched the back of my neck, causing a shiver to travel from that spot to the bottom of my spine. I wanted to hear them keep talking instead of interrupting the conversation, so I continued to be asleep, the same way I did when I was a little kid and wanted to hear my parents talking early in the morning.

Laura knew all of my games, and I knew that she’d eventually say something I’d reply to and the whole ‘pretending to be half asleep’ cover would be blown.

“So, what happened again?” Asked Laura.

“We were at my ranch with the horses she rode for a little bit, like not even ten minutes. When she got off she wouldn’t stop throwing up. She started in the barn. Ten minutes later she did it again in the house. She ate a bit, like a tiny bit, and then started it again. This went on for a couple hours and then I took her to the emergency room because I didn’t believe she was ok. It made me nervous. You shouldn’t be sick like that for so many hours,” said Sergio.

“What did they do?”

“They said she didn’t have a miscarriage, thank God. They tested her for other stuff too and checked the twins out and they seemed to be ok, but they said that she should see her doctor as soon as she got back to the city. They think she has this thing, I wrote down what it’s called for when she goes to her doctor—it’s like really bad morning sickness. They said the doctor will have to monitor her and make sure she doesn’t lose too much weight and that the twins and Mari get enough nutrition because she’s sick all the time. They said she’s underweight for where she should be too.”  

“I think that’s what it is too. I did some research of my on the RENFE up here. I wish I could have been here sooner, but I had to finish my shift at work.”

“You didn’t have to come—I didn’t mean to scare you at all, I just didn’t know who else to call. I was so scared, and she speaks so highly of you and you’re a doctor and everything so I thought you might have some insight on all of this.”  

“No, it’s fine. I just moved my schedule around. I’ll probably have to go home tomorrow night, but I got really scared when you called.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m happy you called because she wouldn’t have told me until it got really bad. You have to know that about her. María Carmen’s pride is huge, and it takes a lot for her to ask for help. She’d rather be almost dead than look like she was weak.”

“Oh, it was really bad yesterday. She tried not to go to the hospital. I had to pretty much pick her up and take her to the car.”

I pictured Laura rolling her eyes before she spoke again. “I might wake her up soon though. I want to try to get her to eat something.”

“She’s been on a  _galleta María_ diet. That and Aquarius, but only the lemon kind.”

“Ay,  _hermanita_.” I could feel her fingers through my hair now. “I can’t wait until this pregnancy is over.”

“You’re not the only one.”

“You love her a lot.”

“I do.”

I decided it was a good time to pretend to wake up, grumbling a bit, and turning over to face Sergio and Laura who were both on the side of my bed now.

“¡ _Hola_!” They both said a little too excitedly as if they didn’t know I didn’t hear their entire conversation.

“What is she doing here?” I said, because in all honesty I had no idea when she got here. Laura was one of two people with my spare key, so I knew she let herself into my apartment and was the one to let Sergio in after his training.  

“Sergio called me because you tried to die yesterday,” said Laura. One thing she was other than a genius was blunt.

“I didn’t try to die, I just couldn’t stop vomiting, thank you.”

“Which is pretty much trying to die when you’re pregnant, thank you—and why were you riding horses?”

“Because I wanted to. This has nothing to do with that.”

“Yeah, I know, but you need to be careful.”

“Did you come all the way from Granada to lecture me?” I switched to Catalan and could feel my face begin to burn a bit because she did definitely come to tell me what to do as she had been doing my entire life. “I’m an adult now, Laura. I can make my own decisions.”

“They aren’t your own decisions anymore, and you go out there and get sick and scare him and scare me like this.”

“But it’s still my body, there just happens to be things inside it now.”

“No—what if it was worse than this? What if you miscarried and you didn’t let him take you to the doctor?”

“I don’t even know what I have yet and it’s not a miscarriage.”

“I’m pretty sure the ER doctors are right and you have the extreme morning sickness. They might put you on an IV if you don’t try to eat something. You’re going to start turning grey and looking like a skeleton pretty soon.”

“Thanks, Laura.”

“I’m not here to sugar coat things for you,  _hermanita_. You’re sick and your pregnant.”

“No shit.”

“Can we have a second?” Said Laura to Sergio who was looking blankly at us, lost in our conversation on our grandmother’s language.

“Sure,” said Sergio, getting up and walking out of my bedroom.

“He called me crying about you María Carmen. Crying. He said he was never so scared before in his life about anyone because you got really ill and he hated watching them give you the tests last night. He hated seeing you so weak, and he felt like it was his fault.”  

“I just can’t keep going like this, Laura. Everything was hurting so much, my head, my stomach, my back.”

“I thought you had a miscarriage when he called me because of the way he sounded.”

“Oh no, I can’t lose the twins after I decided to keep them. I—”

I had to put my hands over my mouth, get out of bed, and go into the bathroom attached to my bedroom as quickly as possible. This was routine now, me on my knees releasing the five  _galletas Marías_  I had a bit earlier into the toilet. Luckily it wasn’t the bidet this time.

My sister stood in the frame of the bathroom door, almost expressionless when I got up to go to the sink and clean myself up. This was all the time, at home, at work, in the car, once almost on the train and I couldn’t do it anymore.

“How many times has it been today?” She asked as I turned on the warm water and grabbed a washcloth from the wall.

“It’s like the seventh or eighth time, I don’t count anymore.”

I looked at myself in the mirror, and I felt like I was a few shades lighter, not looking like me at all. If the sick was making me feel horrible, I wondered what it was doing to the twins in their tiny bubbles inside me.

I wiped my face, closed my eyes, and heard my sister keep speaking. “So you can’t keep anything down at all?” Asked Laura.

“Nothing. Food doesn’t even taste good anymore because I know where it will end up. Sometimes even water makes me sick.”

“When are you seeing the doctor?”

“ _Mañana_.”

“She might put you on some medicine to deal with your nausea.” 

“I’ll try anything at this point.”

“Can you try being a little more like yourself?”

“I go up and down, Laura. I had a good day yesterday until I got ill.”

“You need to tell Mama too because I can’t keep coming to Madrid to see you at weird times. She’s suspicious.”

“I’m going to Málaga next weekend. She knows I’m seeing someone, she just doesn’t know how serious it is yet. I’ll tell her then.”

“You might be going straight to bedrest, Mari. Sister who is a doctor’s orders.” 

“No. I have to go home, I have to see Mama and Papi. Sergio has a game there next week.”

“If you go home you have to tell them.”

“Fine,” I whined. “I want you to be there when I tell them.”

“I probably can’t since I’m here with you today. Can we move this conversation out of the bathroom?”

“Yeah.” I walked by Laura, back into my bedroom and laid across the bed. I was wearing only a t-shirt and felt like the small bump was more noticeable than usual.

“Can I feel it?” Asked my sister, sitting next to me.

“Yeah.” I said.

“It feels normal. It’s not hard or anything. You’re really, really small Mari.”

“Is it because I’m not eating? I take the vitamins and stuff when I can, I’m just never hungry and when I do eat you know what happens.”

“Probably. She’ll let you know tomorrow.”

“But you’re my sister doctor so you can help me.” My voice was obnoxious again.

“I can help you by going to the doctor with you. I’m getting Sergio. Put on some pants or something,” she kissed my cheek just like when we were little. “I worry about you even more now, and this just made me so scared. I didn’t know what to think last night.”

“I’m okay, I promise. It’s not the 1800s.”

“But you’re my baby sister and this is serious.”

“Stop worrying.”

“You’re getting some food. And some water. I should send Sergio out to get you the dehydration stuff for little kids. We don’t need you to be passing out on us.”

“That shit is gross.” I had it recently to try to cure a really bad hangover before I found out I was pregnant. It worked, but it was really nasty.

“I don’t care.”

“Fine.”

“Yeah. Get dressed. I’ll be entertaining your boyfriend.”

“Be nice to him, Laura.”

“Of course I’ll be nice to him. He’ll be the one dealing with you when I’m gone.”

“You have a spare room in Granada, and I can work from there, just saying.”

“No you can’t. The babies are invited, but you aren’t.”

“Whatever. I’ll invite myself.”

“We just have to work on keeping you healthy enough to make sure they get here—” Laura stopped talking and looked into my eyes. “I don’t want to lose you, Maricarmen. I need you to be well.”

“It’s not that serious, I promise. They said it will get better. If I have to take medicine, fine. It’s a little bit of puke,  _Dios mío_.” 

I let my sister hold me as she did when we were little and she was scared during a thunderstorm. I found the crashes and the lightning fun, she was always petrified but didn’t want our parents to know that it still frightened her even when she was approaching her teenage years. She’d come into my room and get under the covers with me cursing the thunder and lighting and trying not to cry.

“Everyone around here is acting like I’ve been handed a death sentence.”

“It’s because we didn’t know what to think last night, Maricarmen, and we won’t know until tomorrow when you go to your doctor.”

“And you see why I don’t want Mama to know. She would have lost it to find out I was in the hospital last night and everything else going on.”

“She should know soon. And we should keep Sergio company.”

“I see him all the time, you take care of him now. I don’t feel like moving.”

“If I entertain him, then you have to promise to eat something.”

“Deal. I just want to sleep right now.”

“Okay. We’ll be back with some crackers and Pedialyte. Yum.”

“I want  _paletas_. Lemon.”

“It’s the winter.”

“I don’t care.”

“Anything else?”

“Chocolate covered _palomitas_.”

“You are so gross and are you sure you’re okay by yourself? I don’t want to leave you.”

“The Mercadona is around the corner, I’ll be fine. I’ll be checking my email from missing work all day, stop worrying about everything.”

The truth was that I was worried about everything too. 

* * *

“Sorry I couldn’t make it to your appointment, Mari. I wanted to be with you, I did, but you were in good hands, right?”

Sergio greeted me with a kiss, his very pitiful apology, and a bunch of flowers in his hands. Laura let him into my apartment that was currently also occupied by my best friend Leah who sat next to me on the couch. She worked the morning show today, so she was off the rest of the day and stopped by to see how I was doing. I guess she was the person with me when I found out I was pregnant for real.

“Do you guys want a moment?” Said Leah, reaching for her purse. “I can stop by later, or be over tomorrow, Mari.”

“Yeah.” I said quietly, allowing Leah to give me a very American hug. “Laura can you walk Leah out?”

“Sure,” said Laura because she already knew the story.

“So, what happened today?” Sergio sat next to me and held both of my hands tightly.

“So—good news or bad news first?”

“Good.”

“I’m still pregnant.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah.”

“And the bad?”

“Extreme morning sickness, it sounds a lot fancier when the doctor says it. I have to go in every week now because she needs to monitor my weight and everything. I’m supposed to eat five times a day, and she’s making me go on an IV so I get enough fluids. And if this doesn’t go away soon, she’s putting me on anti nausea medication. And the twins look really small which is another reason why she wants to see me every week.”

“So the throwing up isn’t going away?”

“No—well she doesn’t know. A lot of women have it stop at around 20 weeks, but I don’t know if I can keep going like this for that long.”

“And they’re small?”

“Yeah. She said it’s definitely connected to them not getting enough nutrition. I’m just fucking this all up. I don’t want them to be small. Neither of us is small.”

“They’ll be the right size after you start eating again.”

“I can’t eat, that’s the thing. And I love food, you know that, this is miserable.”

“Maybe you should start the medicine then.”

“I’m scared it will effect the twins.”

“There will be no twins if you’re not well.”

I didn’t want to think about losing them after deciding to keep them. I was going to do everything to make sure both of the twins made it into the world somehow.

“She asked if I wanted to try to learn their sexes today. It's early, but since she was doing the ultrasound she said it was worth trying.” I said.

“Did you?” He asked, eyes wide.

“I couldn’t without you. Besides, they’re two girls because they’re giving me all of this agony already.”

“Or two boys because you just feel sick because they’re moving all around ready to come out and play football already.”

“I wish they were magically full term.”

“I wish you were magically well, _nena_.” He kissed me the second time, making a slight face when he let go.

“What is your face for, Sergio?” 

“Not telling.”

“No, I haven’t thrown up within the last thirty minutes or else you would have been able to tell.”

“Stop talking about it, just thinking about all of that makes me so queasy.”

“How do you think I feel all day?”

“I know—and I hope that you’re well soon. I don’t know how you do it.”

“It’s quite easy, actually because I have no control over it.”

“So are we still shooting for week 18 for the sexes?” He changed the subject.

“Yeah. I’m going to have to go next week anyway for a check up. She wants to make sure they’re growing and that my weight is ok. Laura wants me taking even more of those fucking horse pills I’m already on. She’s going to send me some powder ones that I can mix into my morning Aquarius.”

“The vitamins?”

“Yeah. They hurt my stomach too since I can’t eat much. I’d rather not have to have an IV but I don’t have another choice. She said doing that could get me the nutrients along with the fluids.”

“How often?”

“She’s not sure, but I’ve lost a bit of weight already. She said if I keep going this way, then up to three times a week. Don’t give me that face like you might cry—I’ve never seen you cry before in real life, but you’ve been close and it’s not the time to do that now.” Maricarmen took my hand and squeezed it tightly. “You’re supposed to be strong for me.”

“How are you so calm with all of this happening today?” He asked.

“You missed me have a fit at the doctor’s office. I think she thinks I’m crazy now. I was hysterical when I found out I was pregnant, and then this time I started crying again. I cried more when we got home too. And I got sick on the train.”

“Why didn’t you guys drive?”

“I didn’t want to be in the car and I don’t like driving with Laura.”

“Okay. One more time. So, extreme morning sickness is a real thing?”

“Yeah. It sounds a lot fancier when the doctor says it - hyperemesis gravidarium. Also known as living death sentence. They don’t know why people get it.”

“And they can’t stop it?”

“No. But there are some medicines I can try. I just don’t want it to hurt the twins.”

“I’m sure that whatever she can give you won’t hurt them, then you’ll be able to eat and enjoy it.”

“I miss food so much, and I look so horrible now. I’m going to look like death by the time they’re here.”

“No you’re not, and you’re beautiful.”

“You’re supposed to think I’m beautiful.”

“That’s what you think.”

“Don’t treat me differently because I’ve got this weird side effect thing,” I said, picking up my bottle of Aquarius from the coffee table. I learned the only things I could kind-of tolerate were lemon flavored.

“I won’t, and you need to treat it like it’s serious because it sounds serious.”

“I wanted to talk to my Mama about this but then I forgot she doesn’t know that I’m even pregnant, why am I hiding this? I need her.” I laid her head against his shoulder. He put his arms around around me, his skin cool to touch.

“Tell her.”

“I have to in-person. Next weekend.”

“You might have to start the medicine sooner than you thought to survive the train.”

“I know.”

“When do you start having to get treated?”

“End of the week.”

“Can you schedule it around training so I can go with you?”

“I probably have to go after I’m finished with work, so you should be off by then. You don’t have to go.”

“One thing I know about you is that you hate needles, which is one reason why you only have one tattoo.”

“This is true.”

I could hear the front door to the apartment open, assuming it was Laura coming back from walking Leah out, which was probably a really long discussion analyzing everything going on with me. I was happy that there was some type of answer to all of this stuff, but I knew that it would feel like forever for us to get to June.

He kissed my forehead and moved his hand over to my side, awkwardly stopping before putting my hand on top of my thigh. I knew that Sergio had been wanting to touch the nearly non-existent bump, but knew I as weird about anyone feeling it. 

“I know what you want to do,” I said, exhaling.

“What?” He asked. At this point, I could read his mind.

“Do it. You’re not going to feel anything because it’s barely there and they’re still just fuzzy circles hanging out. Plus, if you felt anything it’s probably my stomach growling from not eating for the past couple months.”

He put one of his hands on my middle that barely existed which was why I could keep going on pretending that she had a really long stomach bug instead of carrying twins.

I couldn't help but smile at Sergio and his awkwardness. 

“Told you,” I said.

“This is all so weird.” 

“You’re like Laura. She didn’t want to believe it until she felt it and saw the ultrasound picture.”

“I believed it—it’s just, I don’t know.” He hesitated.

“I know what you mean.”

“That’s all I need to know.”

“You should also know that I’m going to have to interrupt this really heartfelt moment and excuse myself.”

“What time is this?”

“Five.” I got up from next to me, hand over mouth, the usual scene that repeated every day we were together.

This was going to be a long five-and-a-half months. 

Extremely long. 

And I wasn't sure if I was going to make it. 


	21. Chapter 21

**Maricarmen -**

I pushed around the  _salchichas_ and  _patatas_  on my plate for the tenth time, trying to take a bite after rearranging everything. My Mama sat next to me in her usual seat at the table while I sat in what used to be Laura’s place. I could tolerate our first course of  _salmorejo_ \- which she made for me even though it wasn’t summertime - and a bit of the crusty bread from our local bakery with olive oil from the countryside. I wanted the delicious fried food that was part of our culture, but it just wasn’t working today.

“Maricarmen,” said Mama. “You’ve barely touched your food.”

Spanish mothers, always worried about you eating enough.

“I’m working on it.” I said quietly before stuffing a forkful of potatoes into my mouth.

“How far along are you?” She asked, and I immediately swallowed hoping that I wouldn’t choke.

“What?” I said before taking a sip of sparkling water.

“María it’s so obvious. It normally takes you five minutes to eat - especially because I know this is one of your favorite lunches from when you were little. You’re wearing a very loose shirt which isn’t you at all. Your face is a little fuller making you look just like your Nana and I can tell that you’re about a cup size bigger. It’s that Ramos boy’s, isn’t it? The footballer.” Mama didn’t even breathe when she let everything she’d been thinking out.

“I wanted to tell you while I was here,” I said slowly, trying to stop myself from crying. “This is the opposite of what I want.”

“María Carmen, you’re an adult and it’s ultimately your decision. Besides, you can’t be that far along.”

“See - that’s the funny thing because everyone keeps saying that.”

Everyone that is Laura, Sergio, Leah, and now my mother. 100% of my sample pool of four people.

I kept speaking. “Mari it’s not that bad, it’s not that far along you have time to think about what you want to do. See it’s been almost four months now, and I haven’t known that long and the doctors say they’re undersized.”

“They’re?”

“They are twins.”

Mama didn’t drink much, but she reached for the bottle of wine she’d put out for me that I didn’t touch, pouring herself a glass. She closed her eyes and took a long sip. This was the good stuff from a vineyard in the hills of our province that one of my father’s distant cousins owned.

“Ok. This will be fine.” Mama’s eyes were wide as she spoke. “We’ll be ok. This will all be ok - and how are you telling your father? Maybe wait to tell him tomorrow. Are you sure they’re twins?”

I picked my phone up from the table to open the photo gallery, showing her a screenshot of the scan with the two little blobs. This week they looked a little more defined.

“This is what happens when you’re on the pill,” I said dryly.

“It happens. Do you love him - are you sure this is what you want?”

“Sergio? Yes. What I want? Absolutely not.”

“Does he know about this?”

“Yeah - he didn’t find out in the best way. I vomited all over him before we were supposed to go to this fancy dinner and I had to tell him the truth, so that happened. I invited him over tonight - they’re playing here so I figured it was time for him to meet you guys - besides the twins want to meet him.”

“Twins.”

“Your twins - Jordi and Javier. The 16-year-olds.”

“Right.”

“Are you alright, Mama?”

“No - yes- it’s just - are you ready for this? You’re barely twenty-five María and I know you’re totally capable, but it’s a lot.”

“You had Laura when you were my age.”

“I was a little younger - and it was very hard.” I stared at the silver cross she often wore around her neck. Mama was a very liberal, pretty religious type of person. “I’ll tell you a secret though.”

“Go ahead.”

“I found out I was pregnant with your sister before I married your Papa - we were engaged and everything, but the wedding was a couple months away. I had all of this terrible guilt about it and didn’t want to tell him, but I was worried about what would happen if I didn’t tell him at all. Your extremely Catholic _Abuela_ on the other side was not happy when she did the math and realized there was no way Laura could have been so big if she was born early.”

“So you guys lied to her?”

“I wouldn’t say lied - but when the baby arrives seven months after the wedding  and she’s eight pounds something’s up. We weren’t ready for Laura at all. That’s why she’s five years older than you are. It took some time to figure out us being a couple and also being parents - it always takes time. It’s challenging, you hate it, you hate your decision to stick with it and then it turns into the best thing that ever happened to you.” She smiled. “Sometimes life works out-of-order and you figure it out,  _niña_.”

I just started crying. Fucking hormones. Out of control.

“ _No te llores niña_ ,” she said, grabbing my hand from under the table. “ _No te llores_.”

“Mama, it’s so overwhelming - I love him, I really do. And I made Leah go to the appointment with me to stop it and I just couldn’t do it. We were sitting in the waiting room and I was like I’m going to do it, I’m not going to ruin my career and my life and my relationship and I got scared. And now I’m scared about not going along with it. I should have been more careful - this is my fault.”

“We would have all stood behind you. And it’s not only your fault. It takes two people, María.”

“I don’t know - Sergio’s eyes when I told him and he said it was my decision - I just couldn’t do it.”

“I’m a short train ride away, so is your sister and you’ve got family all over and your friends - we all love you and will love them. I’m too young to be an _abuela_!”

“We’ll come up with something in English for you. Please promise not to be weird at dinner tonight.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Papa doesn’t know yet - neither do the twins and I want you all to like him. We’re stuck with him for a very long time.”

* * *

“Now that we’ve had all of the _fútbol_ talk, I have to let you guys know something.”

I squeezed Sergio’s hand under the table tightly, and for the first time put the other on top of what should have been a pretty noticeable bump, but it wasn’t.

“I told Mama earlier today - but needed to let you all know now that - “

I just couldn’t say it. I closed my eyes quickly and processed what I wanted to say in Spanish, Catalan and English - possibly even Portuguese. It was all running around in my head. Just say it, Maricarmen.

“We - Sergio and I - we’re pregnant. Before you ask five-hundred questions, it was a surprise.”

“ _En serio_?” My little brother said (Javier) before the other one (Jordi) nudged him.

I watched my Papa look at my mother, thinking about what he was going to say. I squeezed Sergio’s hand even tighter.

“How far along are you?” Asked my Papa - everyone’s favorite question.

“15 weeks.” I said quietly. “They’re due in June. The 11th around your birthday.”

“They’re?”

“Twins.”

“They’re twins?”

It was if he heard my conversation with Mama earlier today.

“Yes, they are - twins. Sergio and I are having twins in a little more than five months. This wasn’t why I came home - but I found out not too long ago and wanted to tell you in person.”

“Twins - you two -  we need to speak with your sister,” said Papa, excusing my brothers from the table without really saying anything.

They grumbled, not wanting to miss any of the  _chisme_ , but my mother gave them the look that they needed to leave.

“Also - I expect that both of you will respect your sister’s privacy and do not share any of this information with your friends, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” they both said. I trusted the little brats anyway.

“You’re due when the tournament starts?” Said my Papa, trying to force a smile. 

“Extremely poor planning,” I muttered.

“Do you love her?” He now turned his attention to Sergio who was now squeezing my hand firmly. “Do you love my daughter?”

“Álvaro,” muttered Mama in Catalan, “Not now.”

“Señor Navas - I do love your daughter more than anything and I would lie if I said that I’m ready for these babies, but I know that I am willing to do absolutely anything to make sure that their lives are the best that they possibly can. We did this a little quickly - but we’re absolutely ready to learn and we’re in it for the long-haul.”  

“How are you two going to handle the press?”

“Papa - it will be fine. I work in PR. I know how to handle these type of things,” I said.

“Right, but the difference is that it’s you this time.”

“I know - Sergio and I made adult decisions and now we’re figuring out how to deal with them. I know you’ll always want to protect me, but I promise you that I’m ok, and we’ll be ok. I’m sorry that I’m not organized and have everything sorted out like Laura.”

“This isn’t about you being like your sister, Mari,” said Mama.

“No - I always feel like it is. I’m doing things backwards - you guys wanted it to be her first.”

“No - it’s not like that María,” said Mama.

Papa spoke at the same time, “This isn’t about you and your sister, it’s about you two and these little ones who are going to appear in five months or less and demand all of your attention. It’s hard work.”

“You guys act like I’m not used to working hard.” I whined.

“We know you work hard, María - it’s just this is a lot for all of us to process,” said Mama. “And I trust that you and Sergio will do everything you need to do to get ready. And I’ll be in Madrid every couple of weeks to make sure that you’re taking care of yourself.”

“Mama, I’m perfectly fine. I don’t need you to babysit me.”

“We’ll definitely need all the help we can get once they’re here - besides your parents have experience with twins already,” Said Sergio with his charm and his smile. He had my mother wrapped around his finger.

“Has Mari talked to you at all about learning Catalan?”

“Mama.” I rolled my eyes.

“No, it’s a serious question.”

“I’m still working on English right now- but I have plenty of friends from the national team who can help me out. Mari’s told me how important keeping the language in the family is to her. I can definitely understand it a little, especially some of the angry words.” Said Sergio.

“Be nice to him, María,” Mama said to me in Catalan. “He’s a good boy.”

“The worst thing you can do is have them learn that language,” said Papa. “This is what they do to me every single day, especially the girls and their mother. The boys are a little lazier.”  

Sergio laughed with the smile that I found to be irresistible, and I wanted to kiss him but i couldn’t because I was at the table with my parents.

“Besides, the most important question I have for you is whether you’re raising them as Madrid fans.”

Papa is a doctor for Málaga CF - and played a bit in the youth system before deciding to go to university. The twins were going up through the youth system now. There was a lot of blue and white in my house, even though my mother is a very strong Barça supporter.

“Sergio already knows that any children that I birth will be Málaga supporters, Papa,” I said, looking at Sergio.

“Madrid fans, of course,” Said Sergio back. “Besides, I have a feeling we’ll be having the team’s future defenders.”

“Two boys?” Said Mama, “ _Dios mío_. You two find out soon, no?”

“In a few scans we’ll find out. I really want to know so I can start planning the nursery in my second bedroom.” I said.

The penthouse apartment was officially going to become a baby space. I didn’t really think about that one. I also didn’t think about them having two of everything including two houses.

“And they will also have a space at my house as well,” Added Sergio.

“Mama, where will you stay now when you come over to help me once they’re here?” I asked.

“You’ll need to get a bigger apartment.” Said Mama, “You can also take the couch.”

“María is welcome to stay with me.” Sergio said.

My parents’ eyes were wide, especially my Papa who was not having it at all. We could only do so many things out of order.

“I mean - she’s more than welcome to spend the night once the twins are here. You guys are welcome as well. I have a lot of space.” Sergio said, trying to clean the situation up.

“You two have a little time to figure things out,” said Mama. “And they’re going to be here for _Feria_ so your Papa can dress them up as little _gitanos_. Can you imagine more little girls in this house?”

“Mama,” I muttered. “We haven’t had the scan yet, we have no idea what’s going on inside here.”

I did think that two little chubby girls in flamenco dresses would be one of the best things. Sergio would be so into that - teaching them guitar along with football and having them all dolled up in the little skirts with a comb and flower in their curly hair.

“Have I told you the story about bringing Sergio to dance with my little girls?  I asked, reaching for the bread bowl in the middle of the table. I wanted to soak it in olive oil, one of the few things I had a taste for again. I was on a cycle of _pan tomate, galletas María_ , and the smelliest _boquerones_ that existed in Spain. Trying a few methods suggested by my doctor and doctor-sister was making handling the nausea a little easier. It expanded my palate to three things instead of one - although 90% of the time they came back in a different, rather disgusting form.

“María - you know I’m not the happiest about this entire baby situation, but it seems like you’ve found a pretty good guy.” Said Papa, smiling for one of the second or third times tonight.

“Just because he went to my class?”

“No, just because.”

“You’re just going to let him off like that?” I asked, surprised, in Catalan.

“Oh no - definitely not off the hook.” He said switching to Catalan. I had to remind Sergio that my Andaluz father learned it to impress my Mama, so he had some thing to learn too. Then Papa switched back to Spanish.  “The both of you have lots and lots of years of work ahead of you right now.”

“We do - but I promise you that I’m committed to this, Señor Navas - to María and to these babies.”

“You can call me Álvaro, and I trust that you will take great care of my daughter and those future kids.”

I laid my head on Sergio’s shoulder, smiling while squeezing his hand at the same time. We’d crossed a huge barrier together - not flawlessly - but at least my parents knew now. I cringed at the thought of meeting his family and some of his football friends but as the weeks passed by this secret would be even harder to hide.  


	22. Chapter 22

**Sergio -**

“I read that you and María are having a baby- I guess I should be telling you congratulations.”

I always ran into my ex at the worst possible time.

I had a quick coffee date with Maricarmen during her lunch break at work, and with my luck it happened to be a spot that Isa also liked. I tried to not make eye contact as she walked in, dark-wash jeans hugging every curve and a very stylish winter blazer. She had her hair in a tight bun today. She had lots of practice doing that because she used to do ballet since she was three. Isa and Maricarmen had similar flexibility - it was very obvious in the bedroom what all those years of training could do.

I have a thing for dancers.

It doesn’t help that they like to walk around in leggings and are stretching in my presence all the time.  

“How did you know that?” I whispered, hoping María would come through the cafe’s doors at any second and save me from my misery.

“So are you confirming?” Asked Isabel, now sitting in the chair across from me. She sounded just as bad as María’s best friend the journalist, Leah.

“Am I confirming what?” I looked down at my phone and didn’t see any messages from Maricarmen.

“That you got your new girlfriend pregnant. You were with me this time last year.” She said the latter part of the sentence quietly.

“No, I did not confirm anything.”

“Sergio, have you not seen her lately? She’s getting a little pudgy. It’s in the face - but that bitch is still rail thin. Sorry - I know she’s your girlfriend now. How do you have time to be in this cafe right now? Don’t you have training.”

“I did - and I do - it’s just - do you come to this café often?”

“It’s a little out of the way for me, but I wanted to pick up a few sweets for later. This is one of my favorites. I take it it’s one of María’s also? I guess I know your type.”

“I guess so,” I muttered.  

“Why are you so tense right now?” She reached over and grabbed my arm.

“I don’t know - maybe because I’m waiting for my current girlfriend to meet me and my former one is sitting at the table with me right now.”

Isa rolled her eyes in a way that only she could. “We are a thing of the past, Sergio. I wish that we could be friends.”

“Not possible.” Because being close to Isa still deep down inside made me feel some type of way. I could usually block it out, but some of the times that she caught me off guard, there is something about this girl. Also she threw that shoe at my head.

“Hi María.” Isabel spotted Maricarmen before I did. She was surprisingly in pants today. Black with leather boots and a quilted jacket she bought in England on a work trip.

I got up to give Maricarmen two kisses, one on each cheek, before taking her giant purse from her hands.

“Sergio. Isabel. This is interesting,” said Maricarmen, pulling a seat from a table next to the one I picked. “What’s going on?”

“She just happened of all the cafes in Madrid to cut through this one,” I said, narrowing my eyes at Isa.

“I was just telling Sergio congratulations - I guess I should be saying it to you as well, María. You look great. He was sitting alone so I decided to chat.”

“Congratulations on what?” Said Maricarmen, directing one of her mean looks towards me.

We hadn’t quite decided on when and how we wanted to announce this pregnancy, considering Maricarmen’s bump was still pretty unnoticeable unless she wanted to wear something skin tight.

“On the baby. You’re glowing - not that you weren’t beautiful before.”

Maricarmen stared at me and I could tell by the way she was looking that she was resisting either screaming or crying or a mixture of the two.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Said Maricarmen. “Sergio - I don’t have much time. I’m going to go up and order something, ok?”

“I feel like there’s some kind of confusion here - I don’t want to make anything messy. I’ll see you around, Sergio. You know what? I can get something for you - my treat.”

“Thanks, but no thanks, Isa,” I said.  

Isa got up and went to the counter to order her cafecito to go. All the Americans who frequented this neighborhood caused our little cafe to start using paper cups for people who couldn’t sit down and enjoy a coffee and a _napolitana_ , Maricarmen’s pastry of choice. I only ever got to enjoy a bite on my high protein, low carb diet.

“What the fuck was that about?” Said Maricarmen under her breath. She crossed her arms and kicked me not so lightly under the table. “What did you tell her, Sergio?”

“I didn’t tell her anything. She just strolled in here and said congratulations to me. I’m in no position to make a scene, María. I don’t have a tracking device on Isabel.”  

“Can you tell? Is it obvious? I mean I can tell when I’m wearing tight stuff, but it’s really not that big.”

“Your face is a little fuller.”

“So, I’m fat?”

“You aren’t fat, María. You’re just starting to look different. Besides, we want them to grow.”

“You know how I have to go to the doctor every week now? The scans are still showing that they’re small.”

“I know - and I’m sorry that I missed the appointment this week. When do we find out what they are?”

“Soon. Do you want to be surprised or not? I feel a little sick.”

“Are you sure you want something sweet?”

“Yeah. I want a giant palmera. And a  _batido de oreo, por favor._ I might as well enjoy what I’m eating because I’ll throw it all up later. _”_

“Mari.” I scrunched up my nose, thinking about the entire vomit thing that made me queasy every single day. The medicine Maricarmen was taking only worked sometimes because she only took it half of the time. She spent the other days of the week curled up in a ball or losing everything she’d eaten that day. She was paranoid about it causing some weird side effects and said she was going to give up taking the medicine all together.  

“I mean, how are you going to announce this?”

“Me?”

“You’re the footballer.”

“I don’t know. Instagram maybe? I’d like for us to be able to control how the announcement goes.”

“Would Isa tell anyone else?”

“I didn’t confirm it - or deny it - I don’t know María.”

A waitress came to our table, a little red in the face, bringing an assortment of sweets for us. I saw the cake with cream and strawberries that I knew Maricarmen loved as well as another slice that definitely involved Nutella along with a couple _palmeras_ and chocolate covered things.

“My boss wanted me to bring these over to you - please let us know if there’s anything else that you’d like,” she said shyly.

I smiled as she put the plate in the middle of the table.

“You really didn’t have to, what’s your name?” I said, trying to turn on the charm.

“Zara.” She giggled a bit.

 _“_ Zara _, muchas gracias_  - and if you don’t mind I would love a  _cafe cortado_.”  

“And you, miss?” Asked the waitress, Zara.

“ _Leche manchada_ , please.” Said Maricarmen, going for coffee instead of the milkshake. “ _Como se dice en Madrid_  - just a cafe with a lot of milk.”

“Okay.” The waitress walked away.

“ _Palmeras_ ,” said Maricarmen, breaking off a piece. “Sergito, you’re so popular. You make all the little girls blush.”

“I just want to live one day where I can have a coffee with you and no one bothers me,” I said, taking a small piece of one of the palmeras. This one was dipped in chocolate.

“I mean, we can move to America.”

“No thanks, too much English. And you know how well that adventure is going.”

“Your English isn’t terrible.”

“You went to a scan without me?” I whispered, changing the subject. I had missed the last one, but it was because I was traveling before a game the next day.

“There -” Maricarmen exhaled a little loudly. “Was a little bit of blood this morning, so I went in to make sure everything was fine and she did a scan.”

The waitress came back and put our two coffees in front of us before I could react to what Maricarmen just said. I pulled out my wallet for a €100 note to slip into her hand.

“This is all on the house,” she said.

“No, you should take it. Thank you for being so kind to us.”

The waitress smiled hugely before walking away, her face a deeper shade of red now. “ _Muchas gracias_.”  

“Are you okay?” I said a little sharply to Maricarmen.

“It happens.” She said quietly.

“And you didn’t let me know?”

“You were at training, Sergio. That is your job. My job is to go to my firm. I don’t interrupt you, you don’t interrupt me.”

“But that’s different - you had to go to the doctor by yourself. And it wasn't just the morning sickness today, but there was blood?”

“I’m a big girl, Sergio. I can handle scary doctors. I’m related to one, remember? Besides, Laura is the one who told me to go make an emergency appointment.”

Maricarmen picked up her phone opening the latest picture of the twins. They were beginning to to have a little more definition, quickly moving past the fuzzy blob stage. I could tell that she was becoming a little more attached than when we first started and they were just a mess of cells and stuff going on inside of Maricarmen that made her deathly ill. They still made her very ill - but still.  

“See, this one is the big one over here’ That one is B and is taking up all of the space. And this little one over here, takes after you, is the one they’re worried about. It’s about half the size of B. And they are fraternal she said today - so one can look like you and the other like me. Or they’ll be like Mary-Kate and Ashley and look pretty much the same. There’s a bunch of girls giggling behind you. _Mira_.”

I turned around and smiled at what looked like a table of high school girls, all wearing identical uniforms, giving them a quick wave. I wanted to be invisible for thirty minutes.

Maricarmen put her phone down, reaching over to put her hand on top of mine that was resting on the table.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you Sergio,” she said. “I just know that you are a big-time worrier.”

“I’m supposed to worry about the people I love, Mari. Next time you want coffee, I’m just buying out the entire cafe for an hour.”

“That’s being a little excessive,” she said, now sticking her fork into the strawberry cake. I wanted to eat it also, but my diet was monitored to the exact grams of protein I had to eat every day during regular season. That bite of _palmera_ had already thrown me off.  “Want to know another secret?”

“What?”

“Well, two. First, I think that if I have to wear Spanx one more day I might explode. Second, looking at the scan today I’m convinced that they’re both girls.”

“It’s too early to tell though, María, isn’t it?”  

“I know - but I have a feeling. We’ll know in two weeks. By then I think I’ll have to tell them at work. Also, have I told you how much I dislike your old girlfriend?”

“Isa?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s harmless.”

“Is she? She always conveniently just shows up at the worst possible time. She still likes you, Sergio.”

“I don’t like her.”

“I know that you don’t, but still. She’s the absolute worst.”

“What else did they tell you at the doctor today?”

“Nothing much. Just that A is still tiny, B is still small but way bigger than A, and that they may need to put me on bedrest or limit what I do which I refuse - I can’t be in my apartment every single day until June.”

“So, this isn‘t getting better.”

“Nope.”

Maricarmen’s phone buzzed loudly. It was her second phone, the work phone, and she rolled her eyes before picking it up. Then her expression changed. It was one that was a mix of shock and anger. I knew this one pretty well recently.

“What’s going on?”

“This isn’t happening right now. This can’t happen.” She said. She had a fork in her other hand, and I decided to take it out. Now it was best for me to finally try the cake I wanted anyway. Oh well Real Madrid nutritionists.

“People know.”

“They know what?”

“What do you think? About the baby.”

“How?”

“I mean, it’s not confirmed - but someone must have seen us at the doctor’s appointments and leaked it to one of the gossip magazines. See - here’s a picture of us walking around and read the caption. I’m going to find out who did this. I’m not ready to tell more people yet.”

I read the caption:  _A source says they’ve seen Real Madrid footballer Sergio Ramos and his latest girlfriend María Carmen Navas de la Cruz leaving this doctor’s office multiple times. Is there a baby on the way for this new couple?_

“That’s how Isa knew then?”

“Yeah, it wasn’t her just being a bitch. Every time I want to hate her, I can’t. Fuck.”

“Calm down.” I decided it was a good time to inhale half the coffee in front of me. If I wanted to, I could drink it all in one go.

“Adriana sent this to me. I’m surprised she knows how to take a screen shot. I’m going to have to tell my boss tomorrow. We haven’t even properly told your parents yet.”

“I mean, they know something’s up. My Mom keeps asking me why I’ve been acting so weird.”

“They know about me. But do they know about the other two?”

“No, I haven’t told them yet.”

“Some time within the next couple of weeks I’m going to just pop and be massive. Like a giant bump and nothing else.”

“You’ll still be beautiful, and we’ve been working out so you’ll be fine.” Another bite of cake for me.

“Are you allowed to eat that?” Asked Maricarmen, taking the fork from my hand. “Mostly protein, right? And the good kind of carbs. This is for me and the extras.”

“Should we tell my parents tonight?” I said, not really thinking at all.

“They’re in Sevilla.”

“Facetime.”

“That’s so impersonal.”

“I don’t know what else to do, Mari. It’s a busy stretch for me coming up - I’ll be out in another country for Champions League and then we’ve got an away match. I just don’t like leaving you for these long stretches.”

“Can I come?”

“I’d rather you not - you’ve had too many scares. I just don’t want anything to happen.”

“I promise you that I’m fine.”

“You still barely eat anything.”

“I know, but I hate being away from you too, Sergio. I feel like this entire thing is making me realize how much I love you - even though I do hate you sometimes, especially for this and I know it was both of our faults.”

“Maricarmen, are you ok? You just said that you love me.”

“I did?”

“You did.”

“Whatever.”

I took the fork back, taking another bite and telling myself it would be my last - probably for this entire week. There was so much on my plate and I wasn’t quite sure of how to handle it all yet. I was running out of time.


	23. Chapter 23

**Maricarmen -**

I stood in front of everyone who was important at my office from my boss Carlota, to her boss, and the boss above her. These were the people who’d eventually give me Carlota’s job, the allowed me to travel to New York City and Milan, gave me passes to fashion shows and pop concerts, pretty much everything that made me want to come back to my job every day.

We had a presentation we prepared about some of the new fashion clients including Adriana’s line that was doing amazingly well and I had prepped all night to tell them everything. 

Unluckily for me, I could tell that I was super dehydrated and the nausea was unbearable. I had another IV treatment scheduled after work but felt like I was a ticking time bomb. Right now I went in to the doctor three times a week for them to force-hydrate me. It was terrible - and Sergio had no idea that I had to go so much. At any moment, the saltines I ate earlier would appear in a different, less desirable form. I didn’t understand how two things were occupying my middle space, but the scale in my bathroom kept telling me I was losing weight. 

I just needed to get through this presentation and then I’d figure out the next big thing in my life - officially announcing to the entire world and universe about the two little distractions that were not-so quickly growing to come and become a part of my now life with Sergio who would be far away from me for ten days. He promised that he’d meet me at the doctor today and sit in the room with me while the I waited for the water solution to make its way inside me so I could feel like a brand new person until Friday. The rest of my work week would hopefully be relatively light, if I could just make it through today without ruining everything. 

I made it through what we had planned for Adriana's first line with us, and was about to smoothly transition into some of our ideas for the next season hoping that we wouldn't show any photos of me in a tiny swimsuit.   

“The campaign that we—“ I inhaled heavily, feeling like I was between a cough and hiccup, trying to remember what I was about to say. “That we—we pl—”

The second half of ‘planned’ resulted in me covering my hand to stop the light remains of my poor excuse of breakfast that morning from covering my brand-new dress and the floor in front of me. I excused myself quickly feeling some of it on the front of my hand, knowing I wouldn’t make it to the bathroom and instead opted for a trashcan around the corner of the glass conference room where all of the bosses could probably see and hear me throw up. At this point, it didn’t matter because I needed everything to come out as quickly as possible. My hand was covered with the stuff, and I imagined there was probably a bit on my dress too. Just what I needed.

I stopped myself from yelling and only wanted to get the horrible taste from my mouth, but my body felt paralyzed. This was unbearable. It was like I was being punished for deciding to continue on with the pregnancy that I was still trying to keep a secret. Everything hurt, and I could only think about what they were whispering about in the conference room. I wondered if I could get a medically-approved termination because I couldn’t keep going on like this. It was agonizing, and Sergio would have to understand. 

I heard my intern’s voice from behind me.

“Carlota says she wants to know if you’re okay, and she said she’ll finish the presentation for you. Maricarmen, you’re not looking well at all.”

She handed me a box of tissues.  

“I’m fine—I just must have had something bad for breakfast, that’s all, _gracias_.” 

I was lucky to be able to finish that sentence between letting a little bit more into the trash can. My face felt warm, and all I wanted to do was lie across the floor and hopefully fall asleep and wake up from this nightmare.

“I can get you a glass of seltzer from the fridge,” continued my intern, Paulina. I was still always shocked that I was deemed responsible and senior enough to have an intern. “I can also take that to the dry cleaner for you if you change out of it.”  

“That would be great,” I said, sitting next to the can, hoping all of the eyes around the table weren’t now turned to my back that was leaning against the glass. Everything hurt and felt fuzzy. I now noticed that I definitely managed to get something on my dress in a few spots. I was an absolute disgusting mess. 

“Do you need any help? I can bring you the water here or to your office.” 

“I’m okay - take it to the office, please.” 

I took off my heels and put my head in my hands for a few seconds, trying to think of the mindfulness mantra my sister Laura told me about. We were trying to go through all the natural ways of making me feel better before finally trying the anti-nausea meds which I ultimately stopped taking after a few days because I got super paranoid about what they’d do to the tiny bubbles. If I thought of them as bubbles, it made them seem less real.  

It took all of my energy to walk back into my office and put my head on the desk. Luckily I had a few dresses stored in there for emergencies and prayed that one would still fit. Considering I was now about the same weight  - well, actually less - with a little added in the middle it would hopefully be fine. I threw on something black and put the now dirty dress in a plastic bag. I would just close my eyes for a few minutes. 

I left the door cracked a little, and heard a few knocks on the door to see Paulina slip through with a bottle of lemon seltzer for me. She gave me a large braces-filled smile, and put it on my desk.

“Carlota says you can go home early if you want to,” she said. “Are you sure that you’re fine? I got really worried.” 

“I’ll be fine, Paulina, promise. I just have a stomach bug or something.”

“She told me you would say that, and that she insists that you go home.”

“It’s ok, Paulina. Promise. It was that and I guess I was a little nervous at the meeting. Don’t let anyone know I told you that; I’m supposed to be your fearless leader right?”

She smiled. “My trick is looking at the clock at the back of the room.”

“That’s a good one. End of the week, I owe you lunch for having to deal with this. And you don’t have to take my dress to the dry cleaners - I can stop by on the way home.” 

“It’s fine. Would you like me to work on anything else today?”

“No, actually, you can leave early today if you want to and we’ll pay you for the entire day. No questions asked, I’ll sign off on it.” Honestly I wanted to be left alone, close all the blinds and not be bothered. “ I know interns don’t sleep, especially good ones like you.”

“No, I can stay. There are things I can work ahead on.” 

“Pau - go home. And have a nice lunch with one of your friends on me, please?” I went into my purse and handed her €50. How Sergio of me. 

“You don’t have to.” She tried to hand it back.

“I do. And you need to go.”  

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Leave at noon and have an American lunch with the tourists and then go to San Gines for churros and have about five for me.” 

“Okay - please feel better and thank you, you’re the best. 

I put my head back down on my desk and must have drifted off to sleep for at least another hour or so. I heard the knocks at my door again, this time a little more vibrant. Putting my shoes back on, I got up to see who it was. 

“Yes?” I said, hoping I looked a little better than I did in front of all of the important people. 

“It’s me.” 

Carlota. 

Great. 

“María, darling, are you feeling better?” She asked, stepping into my office holding my iPad and notebook that I didn’t realize I left in the conference room until now. 

I closed the door behind her and went to sit at my desk, Carlota in her usual spot on the very comfortable couch I just got. 

I closed my eyes and decided that now was probably the best time to just put the news out there. 

“I have the worst possible timing for everything - which is why I guess I should just let you know now that I am pregnant - and that is a huge reason why I got ill this morning because it’s not going well at all, actually. I have this thing that makes you terribly sick every single day. You probably read some of the rumors going around anyway - and I just didn’t expect to get sick in front of everyone who is important at this company - but you don’t have to really worry until the summer and I can do work from home too because I have projects I’m committed to finishing and -” 

“Maricarmen.” She said, smiling. The first person to react to his entire debacle smiling. “Breathe.” 

“I can’t - I - this entire thing is a mess. I feel like a mess. This isn’t supposed to be me - and it’s not even appropriate that I’m here right now whining to you about this.” Fucking hormones. 

“I know that I’m your boss - but I’ve known you since you were an intern here, Maricarmen and we’re friends and I care about you - and this is very exciting news for you. Did you just pass the all-clear? That’s why you’ve been glowing recently - and a little irritable.”

“Not quite - we’ll be there in a couple weeks - it’s just, this is why I feel like I’ve been in a slump with work because there’s so much going on with this. I go to the doctor either before or after work three-times-a-week to make sure that I’m okay and they’re okay. It’s terrible. There’s so much that you don’t want to know. I just don’t feel like myself, I feel so tired and awful all the time. I stressed out about our presentation all night - and I was up all night feeling sick. Slept a few hours, came to work, ruined our presentation --” 

“The presentation wasn’t ruined, María. You did amazing work and our bosses are very happy with everything our department is doing. They want to give us a few new projects and clients - they know that you’re a big part of the brains here. I just told them that you were feeling under the weather. They spoke very highly of you.” 

“Before or after I threw up all over myself?” 

“It’s one presentation - and besides you’re having a baby. We’ll have to have a shower for you here, this is so exciting!” 

“I’m not ready to tell the entire world about this yet. I’ve been planning our presentation and also how to present this news to everyone. Only a few people know, including you now.” 

“He knows, right?”

“Sergio? Yes. He’s part of the problem.” 

“How would you do it for Adriana?” 

“Adriana needs no introductions. She’d do it on television. No one knows who I am other than people in our circles. And I’m sure you’ve seen the papers - I know you have alerts set on all of us.” 

“Social media so you don’t have to answer any questions.”

“I was thinking that also - something simple. We write a statement and put a picture - but I find posting ultrasound photos to social media to be so tacky. Besides - we’ve been pretty private about our relationship so it’s like a double announcement. I was thinking two pair of baby shoes in pink and blue - little Nike trainers to keep his people happy - or double pink or double blue could work also - something simple.” I was thinking out loud. 

“Double?”

“I forgot the twins part this time. They run in my family - you’ve met my little brothers a few times.”  

“Twins.”

“Yeah.”

“I think that you should take the rest of the afternoon off, Maricarmen. Go home and watch some horrible television and put your feet up. You’ve had a long past few days.” 

“I’ll be fine.” 

“Not a question of whether or not you’ll be fine. I’m requiring you to go home early today. If I come back by here and you’re still here then there will be a problem.”

“Seriously?”

“Go home. I’ll call for a car to take you.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t think about this place until tomorrow.”

“Please don’t tell anyone else about the baby. Please.” 

“I won’t - and isn’t it two?”

“Right - it makes me feel better to refer to them as just one.” 

“Go home and congrats, María.”

* * *

 

 **Sergio -**  

I sat in my living room quietly as Maricarmen laid stretched out on the other side of the sectional couch. She was in an extremely deep sleep after we spent a couple hours at the hospital in the late afternoon. I didn’t want to touch her, but she was on an eating schedule just like I was, so she would have to get up soon.  

Earlier, she slept in my arms while the doctor treated her at the hospital. It definitely wasn’t protocol - but since she cried terribly and wouldn’t let anyone touch her when they brought out the needle, they would do whatever to calm her down. This was the worst I had ever seen her. I could tell there was something else going on, something other than the IV and the needles and the sitting still. Maricarmen was being absolutely unreasonable and no one could convince her that an hour of the fluids would make everything better. Her mascara and eye shadow stained her cheeks from the tears - and only a nice dose of laughing gas could calm her down. 

I just wanted my normal girlfriend back. I wanted her smile, her teasing me, her jokes that were always five-hundred times better than mine, and of course I missed the amazing sex. I knew she missed all of those things too. 

I had finally caved and bought two little tiny jerseys I was going to give her today. She had texted me earlier saying she’d plotted how we should tell our news about the twins, but after the episode at the hospital I was starting to worry that they’d never make it here for us to hold and argue about who they looked like the most. 

We finally told my mother who was in town for a couple days for our game on Sunday. It wasn’t as stressful as when I met Mari’s parents, but it was still pretty eventful because she got sick halfway through dinner before we broke the news. María didn’t really eat anything, and my mother was suspicious, asking me when she excused herself “ _Está embarazada, niño_?”  

First I paused, trying to collect what I was going to say.

“Yes.” I said. I couldn’t lie. “Pretend to be surprised when she’s back - I’m really excited but it’s not going well. And I know things happened fast - but this entire relationship has been a whirlwind.” 

“I’m excited for you too, Sergio,” said my mother, taking my hand across the table. “It’s time for us to have another little person in our family - but what do you mean it’s not going well? What’s wrong?” 

“I feel like she hasn’t told me everything - but she has to go to the hospital every week for them to give her fluids and she doesn’t eat anything. She’s lost a ton of weight, and the doctor says that they’re pretty small - one a lot smaller than the other. She’s having a terrible time with this - I shouldn’t have pressured her into keeping them. They’ll be here in June - I hope. I don’t even know how she’s going to make it to next week. Don’t act weird when she comes back here,” I said, spotting María from the other side of the dining room. “You don’t know yet.”

“You okay?” I said as she sat down next to me, kissing her cheek.

“Yeah,” she said quietly, letting me take her hand that was now in her lap. “I’m so sorry _Senorita_ \- I’m definitely not the best dinner guest right now.”

“No, sweetheart, don’t worry about it.” My mother smiled, a little too hugely since she knew now and I knew she was keen on having a couple more grandchildren, maybe not this soon - but you can’t be picky with your demands. If I heard ‘I wish you would settle down and start your own football team of little ones’ one more time...even though she’d complain about being too young when my brother had my niece. Spanish mothers.  

“Mari - you know how your mother knew,” I said, not too loudly. “So did mine.” 

“This isn’t the way we wanted to tell you,” said Maricarmen, a little nervously. I felt her nails dig into my hand. This week they were perfectly manicured with black polish. “Everything’s been a surprise about this whole ordeal.”

“I’ve been asking Sergio when he was going to find a gorgeous girl and settle down,” said my mother, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ve heard so much about you from him. You’re basically all he talks about now - more than football and horses.” 

I blushed a little bit. Maricarmen looked at me with her normal grin that I missed. “Oh, really? Tell me more, because I get a lot of football and horses talk.” 

“I don’t want to embarrass him too much - but he’s definitely fascinated with you. Says you’re the smartest and most beautiful woman he’s dated - and now we’re going to have a beautiful new baby.”

“Hopefully we will,” said Maricarmen quietly. 

“We will - and it won’t just be one,” I added.

“What?” Asked my mother, putting her glass of wine back on the table. 

“Surprise,” I said a little sarcastically. “There’s two.”

“There are two. Two? Really. Wow. Two? This is - a lot. Twins?” 

“You know - everyone has the same reaction except when I told my Mama she reached for the bottle of wine, poured a glass, and took a sip before she could say anything,” said Maricarmen. “I just hope they’re okay.”

“What does she mean?”

“As I started to tell you - this has been very difficult for María so far. She’s been extremely ill the entire time and it’s not getting better.” I said.

“You need to make sure you’re taking care of her then. She shouldn’t have to do anything until those babies are here. Niña - he will take care of you, even if you need to be at home and away from work to make sure they’re here. Can’t you set something up for her in your house with the horses so she doesn’t have to worry about anything, Sergio?”

“He’s been doing a great job so far, trust me,” said Maricarmen squeezing harder. “It’s just a little morning sickness that won’t go away. Sergio is taking great care of me. There’s nothing to worry about. We’ll make it.”

I had the ‘we’ll make it’ mantra in my head the rest of the week - not believing it at all when I spent those couple of hours at the hospital with her. The nurse asked me if I’d be back with Maricarmen on Friday and I had no idea that she had to do this more than once a week. I was informed that this was a three-times-a-week thing, and they were considering making it an every day thing if she didn’t get any better. 

They decided to do a quick check in on what we had now named our little bubbles after she woke up, and it was the normal news. Nothing too shocking other than what we already knew - we still had two, one was bigger than the other, and they were still relatively tiny. María got an ultrasound every week, often when I was at work, so I missed most of the appointments when I could see them actually moving on the screen. 

I took a picture of her with her tiny belly exposed, and the scanner going across it so we could take a look at was going on inside. She first stuck her tongue out, giving me the finger at the same time and then gave me an extremely cute smile for a real photo. After everything was done, we got our copy of the picture of the twins and I held her hand as we slowly walked out of the hospital to the parking garage where my car was. 

“Were you trying to win an Oscar in there?” I asked her, knowing that teasing her a bit would get her to actually talk. 

“It wasn’t too dramatic,” said Maricarmen. “I hate needles.” 

“You didn’t tell me it was three days every week.”

“I didn’t want you to know because you worry about everything.”

“I need to know these things. I can move training stuff around.”

“You don’t need to. You need to train and worry about winning football games and not getting hurt, Sergio.”

“I don’t care about any of that stuff until you’re better and we’re holding the bubbles when they’re here in June.” 

“You know - I was up last night watching videos of people giving birth like live and everything and it is the worst thing I have ever seen in my life. This lady had triplets without drugs. Like three things came out of--”

“Stop.” 

“Sergio, you’re going to be a terrible birth partner. Laura says we need to take a class. Or ten. It’s not just the babies, but then like other stuff comes out of there and you’re never the same again. You have to promise that you will still give me amazing sex even if I’m all fucked up in that area.” 

“María, seriously?”

“Serious on the classes and the sex.” 

“We can’t do anything until you’re better.” 

“Sergio, it might not get better. We need to talk about all of this - not while we’re walking to your car. Maybe when I’m in the car and sitting down because my head hurts a little.”  

“Can you make it to the car? I could carry you.” 

“You’re not carrying me, Sergio.”  

“We’re almost there, come on. Or I can meet you down here.”

“No, it’s okay. I’d rather walk with you.” 

“You can’t keep things from me, Mari - especially about this. I’m worried about you because I love you.” I was holding her hand now, the palm extremely cold in comparison to mine that was super clammy from being nervous.

“I know - it’s just - it’s a lot.”

I gave her a quick kiss and in return I got the smile that I loved so much. 

“Sergio, you are my weakness and it hurts being around you,” she said. 

 “Good or bad hurt?”

 “Both.”


	24. Chapter 24

** Sergio -  **

The words all ran through my head at once and I was having a hard time processing them. I had only felt this overwhelmed before a few times in my life, but now I felt like I was very close to my tipping point.

I had decided that my best skills involved kicking around a football, horses, Spanish guitar, and deciding what tattoo I’d get next - not trying to answer a question that had nothing to do with any of those things. 

I saw the familiar faces in the press room, including the reporter who worked on one of Maricarmen’s best friends Leah’s show (who I had heard was having some really weird stuff going on between her and Cristiano. I was afraid to ask - I’d wait for María or Cris to slip and say something - but the latter was super private).

I’d finish this presser and then hopefully make it to the doctor to meet María for her treatment and go to her place to take a nap while she continued to work on this big project of hers. I had a tough practice and just wanted to eat and sleep - two of my favorite things. Perhaps she’d be up for a quick hookup, but the recently moody Maricarmen had pushed anything intimate to the bottom of her list, except allowing me to sneak the occasional kiss.

But as the so-called leader that I was on the team, I decided to sit at the table and give my very prepared sportsman answers that would be printed in the papers and on television. This was an awful idea this afternoon because I was mentally checked out. 

There was a gorgeous blonde reporter I didn’t recognize who was next on the list, who before I could even remember her name asked the question I wasn’t ready to answer. Someone sent the intern to do their work today. We had an easy win this week, so there wasn’t much going on or to talk about.

“Sergio - Between football and Champions League and Copa del Rey, how are you finding time to begin to plan for your latest little project - the new addition to your family? “

I guess it’s surprising how someone who always seems like they have something to say on the pitch can never find the words when they need them. I looked at the reporter blankly and down at the microphone in front of me, looking back up again without any of the right words to say. 

“I’m only here to answer questions about football.”

“But is it true?” She was pushy. I guess it was her job.

“Is what true? Is it true that we’re very busy at this point of the season, yes? If you’d like to ask a question about the team and our training plan then I’d be willing to answer it. I’d like for this to be a space where I don’t have to answer questions about my personal life. Unless someone would like to ask about our football team, I won’t be taking any more questions today. Thank you.” 

It was silent and I excused myself from the table, expecting to get a not too friendly message from a handful of people. I pulled my hair up as I walked towards the locker room to grab my things before heading to my car to head to the other side of town to meet María. She was probably on her way to the doctor already. 

When I got to the locker room, I sat in front of my cube - closing my eyes for a minute or so before I saw our Captain standing in front of me. 

“What happened to you in there?” 

Iker.

“I didn’t want to answer any stupid questions today, Iker,” I said.

“Well, is it true? You haven't been yourself lately.” 

“Is it true that I got the girl who I just started seeing this summer pregnant? Yes. Is it true that we have no idea how to let the entire world know? Yes. She doesn’t want to be swept away in the entire wives-and-girlfriends thing.”

“Sergio, you knocked up Maricarmen?”

“You know I’ve been seeing her - you’ve seen her around. She just doesn’t really like going to all of our stuff right now - she gets weird about it.” 

“Anyone would be weird about letting the world know they’ve even thought about being involved with you. I mean, anything from Sevilla has to be terrible.” 

“Fuck you, Casillas.”  

“It’s exciting though, right? I mean, he can play alongside my kid on the club. They’ll be in the same age division. You’ll be able to practice with mine once he gets here. He’s nearly done cooking. Sara is so over it.” 

“I’m convinced they’re girls.”

“They’re? How many are you having?”

“Right. She’s having twins - two in June and only a handful of people know now including you. Right around the tournament. People are suspicious - they’ve seen us at the hospital and the rumors are just flying everywhere. I just want to announce it when we’re ready. I actually need to meet her at the doctor soon.” 

“Why did you agree to do the presser with all this going on?”

“Because it was supposed to be a routine one about training - not some intern trying to ask me about my personal life.” 

“Can you be excited about this at all? About a mini Ramos? Or two. You’re lucky your girl is ridiculously hot or else I’d be worried about what you’d produce.” 

“Seriously?” 

“No, really, Sergio - I’m happy for you. And happy that there’s hope for the Spanish national team in twenty years.”

“I’m telling you, it’s going to be two girls. The more boy talk everyone’s giving us, the more they’re going to jinx it. We finally told my mother and she’s absolutely lost it already - I got a box of baby stuff from her the other day. They’re not going to be here any time soon - I should give it to you. It’s lots of neutral stuff. María says we’re dressing them in grey. No pink or blue.” 

“She’ll change her mind. Are you feeling better now?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell Maricarmen congrats from me and you two need to come over for dinner soon.” 

“Isn’t Sara about to explode?”

“Yeah - but it’s a great way to have a look into your future, isn’t it. Besides you should see how good the baby’s room looks right now. Like last time you were over we just started it, but now it’s ready for him. It’s amazing.” 

“Is this going to be all we talk about now? Like I want to still talk about guy stuff, not just our little kids.” 

“I’ve decided that this is totally still guy stuff - it will be like, look my kid is such a better goalkeeper than Ramos’ kid is. My kid is also taller than his kid and stronger and faster.”

“I’d never let my kid play goalie. Most boring position in football.” 

“Believe what you want. Still can’t get over how you told the press to fuck off today.”

* * *

“Sergio.” 

“What’s on the menu today?” I asked kissing her forehead and taking my spot next to the chair where Maricarmen was already hooked up. “You okay?”

“Water. Vitamins. Electrolytes. My favorite cocktail these days.” She grabbed my hand, her nails a nice burgundy color this week.

“Okay. I love you.” I didn’t know what else to say to Maricarmen and her machine.  “Are they being nice to you today here?”

“As nice as people who are sticking you with things can be - I’m going to try to take the medicine again too. And they put a permanent line in so they can come by my apartment and do this too. I got sick at work again today and it was embarrassing - and I got about 15 alerts about your meltdown at your presser today.”

“Yeah.” 

“I was too busy getting pricked to really read anything. I figured you got held up at work. Explain.” 

“This blonde journalist I’ve never seen before just comes in and asks me how I’m handling preparing for a new addition with all the football that’s going on. I didn’t talk to you - I wasn’t confirming anything. I wasn’t having them on a wild goose chase trying to find you and -- I just got all protective. I don’t know. It’s like how you always say your words get lost in translation - I felt like that.”  

“You are always in defense mode, Sergito.”

“It’s the only thing I know how to do.” 

“That isn’t true.” 

“If you had to pick five things I know how to do well--” 

“Clearly the first one to me wouldn’t be football, Sergio. That’s like number four or five.” 

“One through four?” I was looking past her at the liquid pouch standing on its pole slowly dripping into her arm.

“Okay. No particular order - actually no, in order. I’d say first, you know how to give the best love. Two, really good at making babies, interpret that how you’d like. Three, really excellent cuddler, like in my top two. Four, great at conversation even when I have to probe you a little bit to talk. And five, you are an excellent football player - did you win the World Cup before? I think I saw you on television. Are you that guy who plays for Madrid sometimes with the stupid hair?” She smiled for the first time since I got to the doctor to sit with her, giggling a bit. 

“I’m going to cut it, María.” 

“You know I don’t think it’s stupid, I’m kidding. I like your hair long, even when you tie it up. It’s cute on you. You’re so sensitive today.”

“Sorry - I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.” 

“You are. I feel better when you’re here.”

“How was work?” Changing the subject.

“Carlota said I can work from home if I want, but I can’t be in that apartment all day. I have to be out of the house. I just pity the cleaning woman who has to deal with a bin filled with gross pregnant lady vomit every day. You know she knows about this now - I finally confessed after I ruined my meeting the other day and she wasn’t weird about it. She wants to throw a work shower.” 

“You should probably work from home a little bit, María.” 

“No - it’s like when you’re injured and all you want to do and go and train. That’s like me - I can’t enjoy anything else, so the least I can do is go to work and sit in my office.”

“You have a nice office.” My brain immediately went to the time I went to say hi and we ended up having a very hot and quick sex session. “Serious question for you.”

“Ask away. We’ll be here awhile.” 

“After you’re all drugged up - later - and you can say no - but if you’re feeling better I really, really, really would love it if --”

“Before a nurse comes in here, are you asking if I’ll be up for fucking you later tonight after I’m all hydrated and happy - yes.” 

“Okay.” 

“That is such an easy question. Why did you beat around the bush?”

“I don’t know. You’ve just not been yourself since you’ve been sick and I didn’t want to push it. That’s all. Like this is all very scary.”

“I’d use overwhelming. Tiring. Awful.” 

“Sad. Stressful.”

“Horrendous. Prickly.”

“Prickly?”

“The needles. The fucking needles.”

“They don’t bother me.” 

“I can tell. You have 5,000 tattoos, Sergio.”

“You have one and it’s pretty detailed - and you’ve got six holes in your ears. You’ve encountered a few needles in your life, María. See - I pay attention to detail.”

“I was definitely drunk with my sister when I got two of the extra ones. Like when I turned 18 drunk and she went out with me because she didn’t want me to die.”

“Your sister gets drunk?”

“Laura can drink so much more than I can - I’m a lightweight compared to that girl. She only pretends to be proper around you. I miss wine so much.” 

“I’ll bring you a glass to the hospital when the bubbles are here.” 

“Like an excellent bottle of red. From Sevilla. I know you’ve got that wine vault in the country where the horses are. Can we go and visit them soon?” 

“We can.”

“Do you have to go out of town tomorrow?” 

I kissed her hand. “I do. It’s only two days. One day of training and then the game and I’m back on Thursday.” 

“I fucking hate the Champions League.”

“Whose turn is it to take care of you?” 

“I want you to.”

“Are you going to start crying over this, Mari? Don’t. You know my schedule. It’s two days. And I’ll check in on you I promise. We can’t do this every time.” 

She exhaled loudly. 

“I always feel like something else is bothering you,” I said. “What did I miss?”

“I still haven’t gained a pound. I’ve lost them, Sergio. Like I’m fifteen pounds under the weight when we’ve started this entire adventure. And I’m exhausted and I’m scared and my hormones are making me extra sensitive and emotional and I - I don’t know why you leaving for two days is making me so upset.” 

“I can fly your mother up here, first flight from Malaga tomorrow morning to help you out.” 

“She has no idea how bad it is. That is an invitation for her to never leave.” 

“I like your Mama, María.” 

“Good. You should. But believe me, she’s overwhelming.”

“Overwhelming is what you need right now - speaking of mothers, mine sent an entire box of stuff already. I got it this morning. Everything in neutral colors.”

“It’s starting. Attack of the Spanish mothers.” 

“What else is bothering you? Remember how you’re not supposed to hide stuff from me?”

“I keep having this nightmare - and it’s because I keep running into fucking Isabel Velasquez - and it’s me and the babies but you’re gone and you’re back with her and it’s just me at home with them and I see you with her on the television and there’s nothing I can do about it. And I know it’s just me being crazy and the baby hormones - but - I always wake up and it bothers me and then you’re sleeping next to me and I’m okay.” 

“You saw her again?” 

“I did.” 

“Promise me you won’t move to make that thing come out of your arm.”

“What?” 

Breathe.

“Okay - This one time before we were super serious and babies - I was nice and drove Isa home. It was pouring and I saw her and offered her a ride. It was one of those cringe drives - not talking much and when I walked her to her door with my giant umbrella she kissed me and was like you didn’t let me kiss you when you broke up with me and walked away - and it’s been bothering me since it happened.”

“Sergio.” 

“And she keeps crossing our paths - between you and your job and her being at the cafe the other day, she just won’t go away. It’s digging at me - I was trying to be nice and she did that and it’s been in the back of my mind since it happened.”

“So, you enjoyed it?”

“No - I didn’t. I don’t want anything to do with her. I just thought you should know.” 

“I’m not mad.” She said, looking me straight in the eyes.

“You’re not mad.” 

“She’s such a fucking bitch. Perfect, beautiful, fucking bitch. I - why would she do that? Sergio - I don’t care if it’s a tornado, don’t be nice to her ever again. I know you keep your mean side for the football pitch, but please.” 

“You’re going to pull the thing out of your arm and I am not going to be here for when they put it back in. I will go sit outside this room.”

“No, you won’t. Why would she kiss you? I hate her.”

“That’s a strong word.”

“No it’s not. I don’t care if it was the first week I started seeing you - she has no right to do that. I know you’ve dated your fair share of pretty girls, but that one is terrible. What did you see in her?” 

“I don’t know. I wasn’t really in a good space when I started dating Isa.”

“Can we not talk about her anymore?”

“I’m finished - I don’t know, it was just bothering me and you brought her up.” 

“Done.”

“How much longer?”

“Until what?”

“I can drive you home and take a nap.”

“You want to take a nap? What did you do today, Sergio?”

“A lot, thank you.” 

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “I think we’ve got about 45 minutes left. If you don’t look at the bag it’ll go by a lot more quickly, Sergito. I miss you already and you’re only going away for two days - what am I going to do when it’s the Euro and they’re here.” 

“I think they’ll let me break the social media rule for someone who has two freshly-finished tiny people. I’ll Facetime you every day.”

“Twice a day.” 

“At least twice.”

“Okay.” 

I put my other hand on top of hers. “Stop worrying, María. One thing at a time and everything’s going to be fine.”  


	25. Chapter 25

** Sergio -  **

_There was only one face who I wanted to see after we won the trophy._

_It was late and I knew she wouldn’t really understand what was going on and why this was so important to me, but she was one of the only people who I could bear seeing after what was the best and worst week of my life._

_I_ _assumed she probably spent the 90 minutes of the match switching between the laps of both of her Abuelas, my Mami giving her a million kisses and Maricarmen’s mother speaking to her in Catalan while she tried to wipe the stickiness from the chocolate she’d sneak her from her hands._

_The little girl with a million dark brown curls that would patiently sit as I tried to pull the brush through her hair before giving up and putting it into a bun on the top of her head with a corresponding bow before carting her off to preschool. I would drop her off when I could, but some days it was impossible. At first she’d cry and ask me not to leave her, but now she could write her name and was beginning to read already._

_So much can change in a little over three years._

_My favorite little girl reminded me so much of the only person who mattered to me - even though we didn’t get to spend much time together. I’d see her every day, the moment my little one would wake up, escaping from her room and climbing into my bed. Her laugh, her eyes, the lonely freckle underneath her eye, and the deep honey shade of light brown she’d get the moment she went outside in the sun._

_I held her close as the confetti began to fall, and she kissed my cheek. She was dressed in her tiny jersey and the pink tutu she insisted on wearing with her indoor soccer shoes. I was training this girl to be the top defender on the women’s national team since she could begin to walk. I could feel Maricarmen’s extreme eye roll as I let our mini kick the ball in the house, not caring about rules and whether anything got broken. I quickly learned that things could be replaced unlike people._

_People can one day be with you and the moment you wake up there’s a team of doctors trying to figure out what went wrong as you’re trying to cope with already losing one of the babies you waited months for and the other is in a glass box struggling to survive and you should be focused on football, but the woman who you love with everything who was smiling at you before you foolishly fell asleep in the chair right next to her while both sets of parents went to your place for a break won’t wake up and there’s beeping and commotion and they want you to leave because you shouldn’t see what’s happening._

_And it’s your fault because you guilt-tripped her into going along with this._

_Earlier that day was the first time we could hold our daughter, the one that made it. I had taken the picture of Maricarmen holding her close, both with a mess of tubes and machines tied to them. They made an exception for us. I was too afraid to hold her. It was supposed to be another day at the hospital - waiting for the baby to grow and María to recover from the pregnancy from hell which morphed into the post-pregnancy from underneath hell._

_The waiting was pointless. I was left with her carbon copy. Alone. The little girl, taller than her classmates, who couldn’t understand why we’d travel to Malaga every month (sometimes twice) and I’d sometimes sit for hours often leaving her with her grandparents when I would go to visit Mari, leaving the campanillas and thinking and letting her know how everything was. How much I missed her, how our little one was growing and was beautiful and smart - everything she was packed into a tiny person who would never know the sound of her mother’s voice, her laugh, jumping into her arms for the greatest hugs in the world._

_I tried as much as I could to give her everything, but I knew I’d never come close to what Maricarmen could have been. And I couldn’t move on, especially with my daughter around. How she’d want to spend all day playing in the mud in her prettiest dress to sitting through her agonizing baby ballerina class and telling me the new words she learned from her Catalan-speaking Abuelita - my little girl was María Carmen with me in a different form, but I’d give anything to have the woman I loved the most back, even for a day._

_I put the medal around my little girl’s neck and she caught me fighting back the tears. “Don’t cry,” she said. “You did a good job, Papi. You won. Don’t be sad.”_

_“I’m not sad,” I told her. “I promise I can never be sad with you. I love you.”_

_“Me too. I love you bigger.”_

_I told our little girl that I loved her every moment that I could because I never got to tell her mother that the moment she left me. I could feel the moment my body went numb every single day, replaying the words in my head - trying to watch over the mess of doctors and nurses as they tried to save her before they had me leave the room. I had seen her pretty sick before, but this was different._

_I wanted to wake up and realize that this nightmare was over. That we’d be here three years later with two little girls - the both of us standing in the rain of confetti under the bright lights with the team celebrating the trophy - but with every huge accomplishment I found myself dreaming of what could have been if I didn’t guilt her into making the decision that would end both of our lives. I just couldn’t figure out how..._

I woke up in the center of my bed, the covers in a mess. I thought that my heart would jump directly from my chest. I turned over and saw the back of Maricarmen’s head, her curls wrapped up in a scarf as she had one of my thickest blankets from the living room covering her body. I touched her arm to make sure she was real and she grumbled a bit. She was a little warm, but that was normal. 

I kept having different versions of the same nightmare where I was somewhere in the future with only one of the two twins and Maricarmen was gone - not just off somewhere, but dead. I hadn’t had it for a little over a week, but tonight with the stress of our next game and the draw in our previous game that shouldn’t have happened I saw the future that I didn’t want where it was just me raising our kid miserably because she wasn’t with me anymore, permanently. 

“Sergio,” she said without turning over. I guess I was probably moving around a lot tonight. “Go to sleep.” 

I put my arms around her instead, moving the blankets a bit so I could feel her. She flipped over, eyes narrowed. “You took all the covers and kept moving. What is wrong with you? You’re usually out completely cold.”

“Bad dream,” I said, quietly. 

“Is it the one where you miss the penalty kick again? Or the one where you let Messi speed past you in the last seconds of overtime in the second quarter and he scores?” 

“A million times worse.” 

“What can be worse than that?” 

“I don’t want to tell you.” 

“Are you fucking Isabel Velasquez in your sleep?” Her foot touched against my thigh. “If so, that will move exactly where you think it will.” 

“No, like a million times worse than that.” 

“You can tell me - even if it involves her.”

“Nope. It’s about you.”

“I’m ruining your sleep?”

“Yeah. I’ve had this dream a few times - different versions of it. You’re dead and I only have one kid and she looks exactly like you and it’s a few years from now and I’m miserable. The first one I had was moments after you died - and I remember waking up and freaking out because I was at a hotel for an away match. It was so late that I couldn’t call you. Tonight - you were long gone, and we have a daughter and she’s three and I can’t figure out what happened to you and to the other one. So since you asked - I had a very detailed dream about you dying and one of the twins dying and me being a very sad, very alone parent who apparently is terrible at brushing our kid’s hair. She always has a ponytail.” 

“What’s her name?”

“I have no idea.”

“I’m dead in your nightmares?”

“Yes.”

“And that’s why you woke me up?”

“Yes. They feel very real - like I kept trying to get myself to wake up and it wouldn’t work and then when I finally did I couldn’t breathe and I was scared to turn over and no one would be there.”

“Sergio.”

“No - I’m fine. I - I just can’t do this without you.”

“And you won’t have to.” 

“It’s too much going on - between you being at the doctor’s all the time, and the extreme morning sickness, and the too-small babies --”

“And your football.”

“That doesn’t matter. Can you please work from home? Even half the week. I can’t lose you, María.” 

“I’m not going anywhere. Those ideas are all in your head, Sergito.” 

“They just seem so real. Can you get a scan on the babies to make sure they’re okay? Like tomorrow?”

“No - we’ll go when my appointment is. We have our 18 week scan. And we can figure out what’s going on in here - you’ve been so weird after Christmas and everything. I thought that some time off would be good for you.”

“It’s not. It’s worse.”

“I promise you, I’m not leaving you alone. I promise a million times. If I stay home to work - it can’t be every day. I’ll be so sad and bored.”

“Three days? You can work here or out at the ranch. Your pick. You’ll still not be in your apartment - you can make the office however you want. My people will take care of you, your mother can come up here - whatever you’d like. We just have to make it to June. All of us.”

Maricarmen moved to turn the lamp on the nightstand on her side. I was used to seeing her without makeup - and thought she was absolutely stunning in her natural state. She was sleeping in one of my t-shirts tonight, and I had trained myself to not immediately stare at what had now become a rather impressive set (not that I didn’t like when she was a little less blessed in the upper region, but the entire pregnancy thing made them a lot better in my opinion). She sat up, staring at me - those spiral lightbulbs the housekeeper installed giving off a slightly eerie, but eco-friendly glow. 

_“_ Sergio. Look at me. I know that you are stressed out. Football, irritable pregnant girlfriend, undersized unborn fetuses, judgmental Spanish mothers, and even a crazy ex-girlfriend - but if you can do one thing for me between now and June, please do not lose your sanity. Please. For me. Hospital visits and intravenous electrolyte interventions or whatever and you taking my disgusting pregnant-lady vomit dresses to the dry cleaners -- if you need a break between now and June you can go to your man cave with the horses and I’ll have my sister or mother or one of the girls come up and take care of me because your sanity is important to me. I can’t have you having these weird nightmares about everyone dying and it’s only January. How did I die?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure it out.”

“I hope it was glamorous.”

“It definitely wasn’t.”

“Did you hear anything else I said?”

“Yeah - I just can’t leave you more than I already have to for football.”

“This is all getting to you?”

“Yeah - it’s just, I don’t know. The more real it gets, the scarier it is.”

“Everyone keeps wanting to send things, but I won’t let them until we’re closer. My parents want to send those circular cribs that are trendy and I just can’t even think of that yet. We haven’t even told everyone yet. I mean now I’m clearly pregnant - I feel like people know, but still - it’s a very sad excuse for a bump.”

“Double bump.”

“That makes it worse. They’re like two little avocados right now - or one is like a slightly smaller avocado. I miss avocados and real food. I want a giant steak.”

“You’re not sick of bananas and baked apples and your liquid diet yet? I’m happy that we’ve added two more things to the list of stuff that you can eat.”

“Very much so, Sergio. I would give anything to enjoy a giant plate of _boquerones_ right now.”

“Can I?”

“Yeah.” I placed my hand under her shirt (well, my shirt) to feel the slowly growing bump. It was definitely bigger and was extremely warm to touch. I was weirded out by the what she called avocado-sized people hiding under there.

“I read that I should be able to feel them move a little,” she said putting her hand on top of mine. “But nothing yet.”

“The appointment is Thursday?”

“Yeah. You need to win on Wednesday and then you’ll have a couple days to recover from whatever they tell us before Sunday’s game.”

“I think I’ve switched to two girls.”

“Really?”

“The dream, Mari. There’s a daughter in here.” 

“I think so too - at least one girl.”

“Friday, we’ll let people know.”

“Okay,” she said slightly hesitantly. 

“Unless you don’t want to.” 

“No - I guess it’s time that I start pretending that this is a thing that’s going to happen and will be public.”

“Sorry for ruining your sleep --”

“No, no -- it’s fine. I like talking to you whenever, Sergio.”

“If we do have a girl, can we keep the María thing going? After you and the others on your side - and the name is on my side too.”

“Another María? The third in a row?”

“It’s just an idea.”

 “María de los Sueños - which is what I’d like to do right now. No more weird nightmares please, Sergio.” She leaned over and gave me a kiss. “And I love you, okay? And stop worrying. No more weird dreams, please.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Maricarmen -**  

I had picked up a lot of habits from my mother, and from our recent phone conversation I decided to bring some of her Catalan and Caribbean practices from her corner of Malaga to my little part of Madrid, lighting two of the glass candles at the Cathedral by my apartment and praying for some type of help from one her favorite saints (both from Barcelona of course). 

We were raised somewhere in the middle - culturally Catholic and kinda Protestant from the entire Civil War living in England thing - but I always knew that my Mama had a thing for lighting the candles when things started to go wrong and every single time we went to visit her people in Barcelona we’d go to the church and light candles for Santa Eulalia and Sant Jordi. Every single time.

I had really grown to like the name for a girl - Laia, the short version of Eulalia - but also imagined my English-speaking relatives butchering the name. I’d find myself on name websites, thinking of what would sound good with both of our last names. The Ramos Navas twins needed names - but I didn’t want to name either of the bubbles because it made it too real - and because I still wasn’t sure whether they’d even make it here. 

I really needed to stop keeping things from Sergio about this entire thing, but I knew that his feelings were so fragile. The little twin still wasn’t growing right, and they thought its heartbeat was a little sluggish. They’d check on all of that stuff today. I needed some good news, so I stopped by to light the candles. I needed help from somewhere. 

I sat staring at the orange light reflecting off the glass for what felt like an eternity, trying to wipe out everything in my brain before the big appointment in a couple of hours. I had only worked a half day, deciding (well, unable to eat anyway) that I use my lunch time another way instead of staring at my computer, seeing if any more rumors came up about us. 

I thought about Sergio and the babies - the two different sized avocados as we now referred to them - who were still a secret, well not a well kept secret because I now found it harder to disguise my changing figure with my clothing. I continued through my list of people in my head, circling around to my biggest and smallest problems again before blowing out the two flames. I had a couple extra prayers for the twins and Sergio and for Leah and Cristiano and whatever was happening at the _Palacio_ (that girl was keeping something from me - the story wasn’t completely what she had told me over coffee the other day) because I couldn’t have another crazy person in my life right now.

As I walked out after leaving a a few crisp €5 notes in the donation box at the front of the Cathedral, I saw a woman pushing a double stroller - her two little kids about one-year-old, dressed in the most adorable little peacoats and leather baby boots. They looked like little girls to me, one holding tight a little plush doll dressed like a ballerina. 

Maybe Sergio was right. If I could make it to June, we’d have two daughters to grow to love. People always said that the moment you’d see them that it would be love at first sight but I didn’t believe it. My heart was a little cold - my sister blamed it on the inability to eat for the past couple of months and the hospital trips and needles. 

My Mama agreed - saying she too grew to love Laura. It took a couple of months, getting past the shock and the crying and the sleepless nights and then it was her new normal. She had come by for a couple days, trying to figure out how to get me to eat something and because Sergio had phoned her and asked her to keep an eye on me when he was gone for a couple of days for his game. Unluckily for her she showed up on an in-between treatment day, spoon feeding me her stovetop apples with a dash of cinnamon and honey and dealing with the aftermath and the tears. 

She’s a nurse - so I knew it took everything for her to not overstep her boundaries and give me the medicine herself at my apartment. The next day she sat at the hospital with me as I pretended to work on my iPad, on her latest knitting project - a light yellow and green blanket. 

I asked if it was for me and she narrowed her eyes a bit, “Nothing is for you anymore, _niña_. Everything is now for my two little _nietos_. Get used to it. People will say they’re visiting you and will spend all their time playing with the little ones.”

She also told me to stop being embarrassed about this entire thing. That everything happened for a reason. I couldn’t believe it, even when it came from one of the smartest people I knew.

“You found someone who loves you,” she said, looking at me instead of her knitting needles. “I have never seen anyone just melt away like he does when he looks at you, _niña_. I’d rather have you be in love and raise these little kids in a place where they’re absolutely adored instead of seeing you get married in a white dress in a huge church, Maricarmen. I mean, I’d love to see him marry you - but that can come later. Don’t tell your Papa I told you this because he’ll ask why I didn’t want to push our wedding back when I found out about your sister.” 

Nothing was normal about this situation I was in with Sergio. I was madly in love with a millionaire soccer player on one of the best clubs in the world and in denial that in a few short months I’d be attached to him permanently with our future spawn - two little things that grew from a bunch of cells to extremely tiny human-like things that weren’t too far away from being capable of surviving outside of their bubbles inside me. 

The more I thought about it, the more it creeped me out. My sister said that making it to at least 26 weeks would be awesome, but Sergio and I should start getting ready for the possibility of them coming a little sooner with the rate my pregnancy was going. The perinatologist told me the same thing a week ago. It wasn’t that far away, and we couldn’t even decide on how to announce this pregnancy, let alone buy anything important like a crib or start planning the nursery. Luckily I knew a very excellent interior designer from work. 

I was hungry, but I didn’t want to get sick before my appointment. I was tired, but I had a terrible time sleeping recently - especially after Sergio and his weird dream and his schedule being filled with lots of away matches. I was still getting sick at night, and he wouldn’t let me stay at my place alone so I wouldn’t interrupt his sleep. He said it didn’t matter - even though I knew just the sound of me being ill made him feel super queasy - so much for being my tough defender. 

I slowly made my way over to the doctor’s, stopping by my favorite bakery to take in the smell of the _nepolitanas_ that I couldn’t eat anymore and buying one anyway in the pink box to give to Sergio who couldn’t eat it either. I guess that we could just stare at it later. I hoped that the pink box was some kind of sign of what we would find out at our appointment. 

Sergio had beat me over there, sitting in the waiting room at the doctor pretending to be reading something important on his phone, greeting me with a kiss and a little bag. Someone had also made a stop on their way over to our infamous Week 18 appointment.

“I thought I was late,” he said, before quickly kissing me. I could feel a couple sets of eyes look our way. “And they can look, _no te preocupes_.”

“I’m nervous,” I muttered before sitting next to him. 

“Scale of 1 to 10?”

“Twenty.”

“Is your appetite back?” He was looking at my bakery box.

“No. I just wanted to look at them and smell them - and then I bought one. You can eat it later - I know you can’t have it.” 

“I got you this - like look in it, but don’t take it all the way out.”

“Is it inappropriate?” 

“No - it’s just - I know you’re a private person and people are looking.” 

I moved the tissue paper over and saw the most adorable little dress and a onesie - both in shades of grey and white along with the tiniest socks and hats in the same shade. 

“It’s happening,” I said, “I’m going to cry. I think that all I do these days is cry and throw up and the reverse.” 

“Don’t do either- I just know you always talk about dressing them in grey and black. And I got one of each just in case.” 

“Okay - last chance to guess. The Ramos Navas twins will be - I actually like how that sounds.”

“What does the winner get?” 

“Extremely fancy dinner of their choice once they’re here. And an amazing kiss and maybe something else later tonight - And I’ll be feeling nice because of the meds and stuff today.”

“I still think two girls, Mari. But we know they’re fraternal - so one will look like you and the other like a combination of both of our sisters. Like one’s going to have green eyes.”

“I’m not sure - there’s at least one girl in here. I’m going to go with one boy and one girl to be safe.”

“Final answer?”

“Yes. I can’t change my mind in there. Also - who knows if we’ll be able to find out today.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Like if they’re not turned the right way.” 

“Guys, please turn around,” said Sergio as I rolled my eyes at him.

“You’re calling them guys. We’re going to get two boys.”

“You can’t change your answer.”

“I cannot have two boys. I just need a little girl to teach flamenco and to dress up in little grey dresses and concert t-shirts with little Converse sneakers and soccer kits and bows and pigtails.” 

“Our boy could do all of that stuff too.” 

“Even dresses? I mean, I know you’re all about the pigtails and ponytails.”

“Yeah - if that’s what he wants to do. I mean - I’d rather him play football, but they’re girls and they’ll be on the women’s national team starting at the teen level. We’ll have a defender and a striker. And I’m getting a haircut soon and you’ll be so sad about it.” 

“No goalkeeper? And I like your hair long, Sergio. Besides - I get to borrow your headbands when I can’t deal.”

“Busted.”

“Do you ever have the feeling that everyone’s listening to your entire conversation.” 

“They can listen. We’re interesting people. Footballer. Publicist. Is it our turn yet?” 

“I hope so.”  

And as if the receptionist heard our conversation (which she probably was trying really hard to hear) it was our turn. Sergio helped me up from my chair and I held his hand tightly as we walked back to learn who the two little people we’d have the rest of our lives would be.


	27. Chapter 27

** Maricarmen -  **

"So we’re going to check on the smaller one first - this is Baby A.” 

I held Sergio’s hand tightly as we looked at the screen. This was taking a long time - the doctor making sure that everything was how it should be and the twins were developing correctly. They saved the best part for the end - the sex reveal when we’d find out what we were having in June. If I thought my stomach was consistently in knots, today it was definitely the worst it has been due to my nervousness. 

“And he definitely is a boy.” She said. 

“Boy?” I said, looking at the screen and then looking at Sergio who was smiling enormously - probably plotting to buy the mini goals, soccer balls, and boots already. 

“Yes ma’am - we’ve got a future member of the national team in here.” Said our doctor who was quite familiar with Sergio’s occupation.

“How can you tell? Not the team part -but the boy part,” I asked.  

“Well, look,” she said moving the picture on the screen in a bit, “Right here. He’s a tiny little thing but he clearly wants us to know that he’s a boy. He’s still not as big as he should be, but we’ll just have to accept that Baby A is going to be small - but small doesn’t mean that he won’t necessarily be healthy when he’s here. We’ll keep monitoring him - and will make sure you keep your little guy fed, María.” 

“He’s little - but he’s a boy?” Said Sergio. 

“Yes, it’s a boy.’ The doctor smiled. “I am pretty certain - almost can guarantee it.” 

“Sergio - it’s a boy,” I said, feeling another hormone spell that would have me crying. His eyes were a bit red too. “You okay?”

“Yeah - I’m just - we having a boy - I don’t know, it’s exciting.”

“And we also have Baby B too - your larger one,” said the doctor. “Let’s see - and this one is - she’s a girl. She’s a little small too, but much bigger than her brother.”

“You were right,” said Sergio, squeezing my hand more tightly. 

“Boy and a girl.” I said, not believing that we now finally knew who we’d meet in June. 

“Now, I still want to see you next week. We need to check in and make sure they’re still growing and that your nutrition plan is still working for you, María. Sergio - will I be seeing you as well?” Asked the doctor.

“He’ll be out of town,” I replied, remembering Sergio would be away from me for a bit. Football, ruining our lives. 

“But either her sister or mother will be here with her,” added Sergio. “When I’m not here there’s someone around to help her just in case.”

“I can handle myself,” I whispered to him. 

“No - it’s totally a good idea to make sure that someone knows what you’re up to - especially with this high-risk pregnancy. We have to make sure that we get as many weeks as possible with these little guys so when they’re here that they’re as big and healthy as possible. That means I may have to put you on bed rest soon,” said the doctor as she wiped the gel from my stomach. “I’ll give you a couple more weeks - but I’m still worried about Baby A.”

“I can’t do bed rest.” I whined. 

“It’s not definite - I just wanted to put it out there that it’s a possibility. Have you talked to your boss yet?”

“Yes, she knows.”

“You have to be very careful these next few weeks - it’s crucial that we try to get you past the 24 week mark. The bigger they get, the less time they’ll spend in the hospital.” 

“Okay.”

“You’ll be okay, Mari,” said Sergio, squeezing my hand this time. “If you need to be home, we’ll make it work.”

“I have another serious question before we go back to looking at the babies,” I said. “Is it - are we allowed to -- is it a bad idea for us to with the entire too-small baby thing be intimate right now?” I was speaking in circles like Sergio. 

“With the rate your pregnancy is going - it’s not the best idea. I would advise no, Maricarmen,” said my doctor. She could tell I was immediately disappointed.  

“Shit.” I said, thinking out loud, looking at Sergio who raised his eyebrows before shaking his head. “ I mean - I’ve been too sick to want to do anything, but I just had to ask because the treatments are making me a little less irritable.”

“No - it’s a good question - it’s just you’ve had your share of issues and although technically you could - I usually advise that people with high-risk pregnancies and or multiples - and you have the fortune of having both of those things - try to abstain if they can wait.”

“María, we should have thought about the entire abstinence thing a long time ago,” Sergio muttered jokingly trying to make light of the situation and it worked. 

I laughed a little bit. 

“No food, no sex, possibly no work,” I said. 

“Yes - those things are true - but on the positive side, they’re growing so that’s a very important positive,” said the doctor.

“Exactly.” Said Sergio. 

“I guess,” I exhaled loudly. 

“I know this has been extremely tough for you -- since the first day and you’re doing a great job with everything that’s happening Maricarmen. You’re doing everything you can do right - we just have to make sure we stay on the right track. Same time next week? And the tech will give you guys the scan photos later.”

“Are you sure it’s a boy and a girl?” I asked again, still in disbelief. 

“Positive. And keep taking your medicine and I’ll check in on you when you stop by for your treatment Friday. You two should go home and celebrate,” said the doctor. “Sparkling cider for María, maybe some champagne for you, Sergio.” 

“We will. Thank you,” I said. “Cider it will be.” 

“Thank you for taking good care of María and the twins,” said Sergio. “Now we can finally start planning the nursery.” 

He was more excited about that than I was. We’d have to do it at two places, his and my second bedroom. I’d have to put a bed in the office now that the invisible avocados were taking over all of my space - mental space, physical space in my mid-region, my spare room. 

Sergio kept indirectly insisting that I move in, but it was too soon - we hadn’t even been together a year yet...then again, we’d *possibly* have two babies before we’d hit the year mark - I had no confidence that they’d last until June. In my head I was hoping for May but I didn’t tell Sergio that at all. We wouldn’t have little avocados by then but hopefully pretty sizable _piñas_. 

He helped me off of the table, still holding my hand with his silly grin even larger than usual. 

“What?” I asked him.

“Nothing except that I love you for doing this, María.” 

“For doing what?”

“Everything.”

“You’re so weird,” I said, rolling my eyes at him - my favorite reaction.  

“No, seriously -- for being so strong and sticking with this.” 

“Yeah,” I exhaled. “I keep telling myself it will be worth it.” 

“It will be. Are you and the _aguacates_ hungry?”

“I’m in a consistent state of hunger, Sergito. Are you offering to make me the fruit of my choice tonight? I’m feeling another round of warm apples - a little bit of brown sugar.”

“Of course. Anything for you.”    

* * *

“How many thousands of likes did you get? Oh wait - I can figure that one out because I have your analytics all right here and I have a zillion new followers. Did you tell your publicist about this one? He’s going to be freaking out soon - I’ll be here for the phone call.” 

We - well he - finally did it. It was a simple snap, one we asked one of the little assistants to take of us after our appointment sitting in the back room in the doctor’s office looking rather cozy and holding the neutral-colored, tiny-person clothes Sergio had given me before we found out our boy-girl twins. 

We sat in the car for fifteen minutes when I finally said, “Send it.” 

_A little surprise for you - announcing two new members to Team Ramos in 2016 con mi amor @maricarmen_navas. We are excited about this new journey and hope that you respect our privacy as we prepare for the arrival of our little ones. - SR_

“I doubt that anyone will read the entire respecting our privacy part - my favorite part of the post.” I stirred the mug of Colacao warm in my other hand - knowing I’d regret it in a couple hours but I wanted its chocolatey goodness - plus it reminded me of home. 

“It’s part of the job,” said Sergio, putting down the controller for his Playstation. 

“The job of dating you?”

“Yeah. Are you sure you don’t want to play?”

“Not right this second - I reposted your picture and people that I know are now freaking out. Like I have 30 text messages right now.” 

“You’re the one that wanted to post it.” 

“So did you. Besides, a lot of people kinda knew already. The bubbles feel kinda like real people now.” 

“Because we know what they are?”

“Yeah.”

“We have to name them.” 

“Easy. Sergio I and II.”

“ _Tonto_.” 

“I mean we can be trendy and have a girl Sergio.” 

“Seriously though.”

I rolled my eyes, putting the mug on the table before leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Are you going to be okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like the media’s going to be all over you tomorrow.”

“Whatever - the biggest problem is making sure the bubbles reach their maximum bubble size.”

“Can we seriously start talking about names soon though?”

“Yeah - is she going to have 25 names like you?”

“I mean we can give the boy Sergio as his middle name - but I think it would be weird to have two Sergios in my life.” 

“You can never have too many.”

“You’re silly.” 

“I’m serious.” 

“I need to kiss you for real, Sergito,” I said, whining a bit. 

“Why should I let you do that?”

“Because you’re going away from me again and I’m carrying your two avocados - under ripe ones, but still. I’m going to need new leggings soon - these regular person ones are getting a little tight from them.” 

“Just buy some, María. As many as you want.” 

“I don’t want to! It makes it too real.” 

“Your brain is all over the place today.”

“I know.”

“You mentioned you liked the name Laia the other day.”

“It’s the short version of Eulalia - one of my Mama’s favorite Saints.”

“María Eulalia?”

“I do really like that. You want to know what other name I liked?”

“Tell me.”

“Isabel.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I know. Can you imagine us naming our kid after your crazy ex-girlfriend? She still likes you. Like every single time we run into her, the way she looks at you.”

“I can tell. Can we not talk about her?”

“Nope - we have to. She commented on my photo of us and the bubbles.”

“She follows you?”

“My page is public - besides I kinda fake pretended to like her on that photo shoot we were on - I mean, she’s not on any nice list that I have in my head, but she’s not terrible once I get past the fact that you definitely boned her, Sergio. She’s definitely into weird stuff. Like super rough.”

Sergio looked at me blankly - the look he usually gave when I slipped and spoke in Catalan or English way too fast for him. 

“Are you serious?” He said, looking more confused.

“Sorry. I don’t know - every time she crosses my mind - I’m just getting weird because I’m really starting to notice that my shape is changing and we aren’t allowed to have sex anymore and I feel like absolute shit right now so I wouldn’t find any of this attractive and she’s gorgeous and--”

“And she’s not you, María so I’m not interested. Especially in Isabel Velasquez. Have you seen yourself recently?”

“You mean when I try to squeeze into my favorite leggings - I wish we had a Lululemon in Madrid and not just in London. They’re getting too small.” 

“Maricarmen, you’re beautiful - the most beautiful, with or without your tiny space for the bubbles and they’re going to be the best looking little kids because they’ll get all their looks from you - and I’m not just saying that.”

My emotions were all over the place - unexplainably. Fucking. Hormones. Do not cry Maricarmen, don’t do it.

“And just if you’re wondering, since you wanted the comparison - Isa’s pretty but she’s no Maricarmen in all the ways, just saying. Interpret that how you want.”

“All the ways.”

“María - you haven’t let me touch you in like two weeks,” he muttered. “And now we can’t even --”

“What?” 

“Nevermind.”

“I heard you. I’m sorry.”

“I know it’s not your fault -- it’s that -- I -- I feel like all of this, everything is my fault.” 

“It took both of us to get pregnant though.”

“Right. But you didn’t have to go through with it.”

“But I chose to - and it’s okay. And we’re not going down that road today.”

This conversation happened every week - always when I was at my weakest point with the sickness and everything - we were both turning into absolute messes I guess. 

I had one of the most desirable guys pretty much begging me to hook up with him and I felt gross even though I definitely wanted it a million times more than he did in the past few weeks - the last time we did it was all focused on me, literally, like no action for Sergio at all - he was an absolute professional at the entire lady-servicing thing. And now we couldn’t really do anything. Absolute party foul.

“No lights.” I said, crossing my arms. 

“I see you naked every day, Mari unless I’m out of town - and sometimes I still see all of you.” He turned a bit red.

“Okay - you can have one candle or something.”

“Now we have rules.”

“Not having rules is why we’ll be parents of twins in June.”

“We don’t have to do anything tonight - not trying to pressure you at all. Don’t worry about it.” He took one of my hands. “You can totally say no.”

“Sergio - you should know by now that I’m about a zillion times worse than you are.”

“How so?”

“You know exactly how so.”

“It’s been too long - I just wish that - ”

“I know - and it’s not me - it’s what’s going on in here.” I touched the bump, and decided that there would never be a point in this entire thing where it wouldn’t feel weird.

“Here.” He finally went in, allowing me to fully kiss him. His face a little stubbly - I guess it was late in the day now. 

Sergio was mainly responsible for initiating any touchy-feely intimate stuff these days because I spent most of my time being extremely irritable. He’d kiss me good morning or good night when I stayed over and would ask if he could cuddle at night before we fell asleep but that was about it. It was as if Isa knew I was leaving him hanging - she could probably sense it. That’s why we kept running into her. 

“One more please,” I said before taking him in again. I really wanted one of our escapades like when we first started dating - something rough and hard and long that would leave me super sore and wanting more from him a couple hours later. 

“June.” He said. 

“I promise you that once they’re here - we’ll get both of our mothers to watch them and we’ll go out to the ranch and I’ll make sure to give you the most mind-blowing, ridiculously amazing fuck you’ve ever had in your life. Like so fucking amazing. You will not even know what to say. Like World Cup level.” 

“World Cup level fucking, Mari?” He laughed a bit.

“I’m so serious.”

“That sounds like the kind of thing where we’ll end up with another kid if it’s that good.”

“Oh no - believe me - after the _aguacates_ I’m getting that thing where we can’t have a kid for five years. No more. So I can worry about you and them.”

“So we can call it Champions League level then?”

“Fine. You’ll have to give me a medal for how amazing it will be.”

“I’ll put my order in for one now.” 

“I just wish that we could right now.” 

“I know.”

“But - at least we had mostly good news today, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Guess what?” He gave me his stupid smile that I loved so much. 

“What?”

“I love you, Maricarmen,” he said before kissing me again. I got the butterflies in my stomach, the good kind not the queasy ones I’d had so much in this pregnancy adventure. 

My sister said that when you found someone who could still make you feel that way you knew that he was the right one. I suppose she was right.

“I know,” I said, looking at him, our faces close. “I love you too, Sergio.”


	28. Chapter 28

** Sergio -  **

I had mastered the art of compromise with Maricarmen. Tonight, after trying my best to make her a version of _caldo_ that she could stomach (“Just pretty much heat up some chicken broth, Sergio,” she whined, sitting at the kitchen island with the newspaper. We were becoming such old people.), I had to determine what level of our unofficial mind games we were playing, deciding how much back and forth was worth it. She’d usually win, but today I would try to have her be the one to give up. All she had to say was “museum visit” and I’d do whatever she wanted to get out of it. 

I needed to get out of our drought some way that wasn’t risky, and she knew exactly what I wanted as she snuggled next to me in my bed in one of my tshirts. Tonight, I decided I’d go through the Prado with Isa as our guide for hours if she’d be up to something.

We were just laying there, not speaking or doing anything. I could feel her breathing, the rise and fall as her head was against my chest.

She moved, getting in front of me where our eyes met saying, “So this is like a game of risk, you know.” 

“What?”

“You know.” She exhaled before tying her hair up into a messy bun. 

“Explain.” I said, touching her inner thigh.

“Sergio, there’s a 60 percent chance that I get sick and it’s like that time with the bidet - or even worse. My reflexes are a little weak right now.” 

“And what if I bet on the 40 percent?”

“You’ll feel fucking amazing.”

“You know that I believe in equal opportunities, María,” I said, moving my hand more - now closer to where I expected the lace (black today) to hit by the vine of bluebells. 

“Okay, let’s make a deal.”  

We were terrible at public dates - the fault definitely both of ours. Maricarmen had mentioned earlier that she wanted to go to the city and the Reina Sofia before pretending to eat dinner which would most likely be me eating both of our food while she pushed around a plate of fruit and she was extremely self-conscious about the bump. She also suggested churros and chocolate somewhere, maybe San Gines the ultimate tourist trap. I could buy it out for an hour and it could just be us. Not very public I guess.

“Can you even eat those?” I said to her, moving underneath, touching her exactly where she wanted me to. I decided to only do it quickly, to be a tease, make her frustrated. 

“There’s a lot of things I shouldn’t be eating, Sergio. You set yourself up for that one.”

I laughed before kissing her. She smelled like a mix of the perfume she wore and the almond-scented shampoo she used - some concoction for girls with curly hair she’d order on Amazon from the UK.

“Okay,” she said, feeling her fingers now against my torso. Her hands were always cold. Always. “I know you’ve been thinking about this for weeks.”

Stop stalling, please.

She kissed me this time, doing it the way we usually did - rough but always the right amount - exactly how I liked it. She moved her hand lower and lower until it was exactly where it needed to be. Fucking cold fingers.

Maricarmen paused, staring into my eyes as she grabbed me hard, her nails digging a bit.  

Not saying anything, just moving. I closed my eyes, picturing the blood red nail polish of the week on her perfectly manicured fingers. She didn’t like wearing rings, and I always thought about how we’d make that compromise when I came around to asking her to marry me. She’d already told me no proposals until after the _aguacates_ were well into their babyhood (“At least six months,” she told me over dinner - well me eating dinner and her going through one of the many glass bottles of Aquarius between both of our places. “And that’s assuming they’re full-term. Rings make things permanent - and I don’t like commitment, unless it’s to you. I’m making no sense.”)

She was getting weird about her body so I didn’t even try to take off her shirt this time. Last time I knew she wasn’t about it at all, the faint shade of red forming underneath her light brown skin and the way she’d move my hands to only let me touch her in certain places. I’d only get the occasional glimpse of all of her.  

Kisses, hands, mind in a million places, some back and forth in rapid-fire Andaluz inflicted Spanish (and a bit of Maricarmen’s Catalan just for fun). A little cursing, thinking about getting Mari hand warmers, closed eyes, exhaling intensely, and eyes closed. 

Mess of curls between my thighs - the moment I felt her tongue against me I could have actually lost it right there - but I couldn’t because I didn’t know when she’d next be up for this again. 

Come on, Sergio, slow down a bit and make it last.

I put my hands on the back of her head, closing my eyes again - feeling everything, feeling great - this girl is absolutely amazing. It had felt like an eternity since we did this and I knew I wouldn’t last that long. 

“This feels so fucking good, _nena_ ,” I said feeling myself grow close. I knew she couldn’t respond, so I kept talking. She was rough because that’s how we were and I knew that this was on her list of “things that I don’t really like, but will do for you sometimes.” Right now, it felt like the best thing in the world. 

“This is so -- so --” I hesitated, almost saying _her_ name which was weird.

I had never had a slip up before - and this definitely wasn’t the time.

I guess I was used to Isa being in this position, and not Maricarmen. The first day I met her, I had her like this - her unforgiving green eyes occasionally staring at me. She always needed to know immediately what I thought about her performance. I guess in that relationship I was more concerned about me, and not about her. Not how it is with María at all - who I nearly definitely just fucked it all up with if I even uttered half of Isabel’s name. Start thinking a little bit, Ramos.

 “ _Coño_ , María -  I can’t - ” 

Or at least tried to talk. I was eventually unable to really say anything before she stopped, staring at me with her “I made you feel all kinds of ways” look she liked to give me. 

“Not swallowing today, Sergito,” she said, looking up at me as she stayed between my legs, moving my hand aside as she helped me finish what she started. “Not on my approved list.” 

I let out a final groan or two before she got back on my level, giving me a kiss and laying down. Her white shirt barely covering the black lace. 

“ _Gracias, nena_ ,” I said, kissing her hard, holding on to her bottom lip.

I wanted to return the favor.  

“You know that I totally give better head than you do, Mari,” I said, touching her, but she moved my hand away which was strange. 

“Whatever. You don’t.”

“I can have you begging for more in about five seconds.”

“Please. You wish.”

“I can show you right now if you want me to.”

“No - I’m just not really up for it. Not today.” 

“Are you sure you’re fine? You’re turning down - I don’t get it.” 

“Neither do I - just not tonight. Let’s just do a walk in town or something tomorrow like I asked for earlier- and dessert, a lot of dessert - would totally like that so much more right now. _Natillas_.” She could for some reason now tolerate an insane quantity of chocolate pudding.  

“We can do both.” 

“No - just one. I promise you that I’ll be up for whatever, whenever before you know it. Maybe even tomorrow.” 

I could tell that something was bothering her, but I wouldn’t push it. 

“Can I at least kiss you again.” 

“Yes, you may, Sergito,” she said, and I leaned over to kiss her cheek. 

“Princesa, you know that I love you, right? Even when you’re acting weird. 

“Yes.”

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“I just gave you a gigantic favor, so you owe me.”

Maricarmen for some reason was very much into us pretending to be a normal couple. Normal as in one of us not being easily recognized, and the other being unusually beautiful with a pregnancy that just went public. I knew she didn’t want to only talk about the babies, which was the most obvious conversation starter with her right now. Yes, she was beginning to get to know my friends very well but she said that the energy to go through the entire “yes this happened quickly” story was a bit much for her. 

The outside our places activities that we could do were quite limited, and I stopped suggesting going to eat because of María and her inability to enjoy food at all. I couldn’t wait until June so we could go back to eating _churrasco_ and _boquerones_ and drinking wine. We’d have to look into interviewing nannies soon for these regular-person outings. 

The four days that I was away seemed like enough time for the bump to grow from a pseudo-bump to something that was very noticeable. She said she was beginning to get over the hiding - even though she was still a little embarrassed about the entire thing because it all happened so quickly. She said she ordered some new maternity dresses from this site that lets you rent them because “there is no way in hell that I’ll be pregnant again for at least five years - or maybe even ever, so I’m not spending thousands of dollars on pregnant-woman attire unless it’s more leggings or maybe one pair of those jeans with the stretchy belly thing.” 

This request might be way too much "public" for her, but it was worth asking. 

I tried to smile as big as I could to win her over before speaking. “I know - but there’s a charity event coming up and I know you’re weird about us being out sometimes because the attention and whatever - but we’re Instagram official now --” 

“What’s the catch?”

“So - it probably involves a dose of Isa --”

“Because?”

“I thought it would be something you’d enjoy - it’s a fundraiser cocktail thing for this foundation that helps gives poor kids access to art and music. You can wear a gorgeous dress, and I’ll be in my bowtie and tux.” 

“And it’s at the Prado.” 

“No - but I know that this is the kind of thing she goes to. There’s always people from her museum there. One of the programs benefits the Prado. Helps them bring lower income schools and kids to the museum for tours and classes.”

“And you waited to tell me that now after I made you feel good.”

“I want you to go. I’m not going alone, and I’m not taking one of the guys as my date.”

“Who was your date last time?”

“María - you know exactly who it was. And now you’re my date, and the only date I want to have for the rest of time. Come on, there will be flamenco involved. That’s why I want to go. One of my favorite artists is performing.”

“I’m going to have to get you to diversify your playlists.” 

“Add some of your American and British stuff?”

“Yeah. You are worse than my _Tías_ in Malaga. I’m surprised you don’t have a Caseta de Ramos at Fería - but more details on this dinner.”

“Not a dinner, but basically us dressing up and letting the press take a couple photos. I already wrote them a check, so we have to swing through since I’ll be in town. Five minutes at the press wall where they take pictures, and at least an hour at the event and we can come home and I’ll give you an amazing massage and make you a huge mug of that British tea your Nana sends you from England afterwards - here or at your place.”

“When?”

“Friday. No game until Sunday. And don’t forget to invite some of your girls to sit in the box. Just maybe not Leah.”

“Leah has her own box. Is there something that you know about her that I don’t?”

“I don’t think so. I feel like you know more than I do. It’s complicated, I almost don’t know what to believe with her.”

“Yeah, promise me we’ll never be like that. Even if you cheat - which you won’t and I promise that I won’t that we’ll  be honest with each other - and I won’t have a meltdown over an argument.” 

“Isn’t that your best friend, Mari - and yes, I promise.”

“She is one of them - but this entire thing, it’s just so confusing. I just, I don’t know - I’ll go to your event with you. I just need a new dress. The bump is beginning to get into the way. They’re like - look at us, we’re finally starting to grow parents who haven’t even bought us anything yet.”

“They have plenty of clothes.” 

“Yeah, but we have to start planning the nursery - where we’ll have it, cribs, furniture, strollers, car seats, stylish baby bags for both of us.” 

“We have time.”

“Doesn’t feel like it. I just don’t want to only talk about being pregnant. That’s all people want to talk to me about recently, and I just can’t anymore.”

Earlier in the day María said she finally told the moms at her class of frightening little girls that she taught flamenco to - the ones who wore twenty shades of pink and ribbons and bows while they clicked in their leather mini heels. 

Maricarmen said she felt more nervous than she did when she told her boss, Carlota, when she talked to them - telling the mothers before she told her little ones. She didn’t know how to explain to a bunch of kids that she was now having one, well two, herself. 

“One of them just couldn’t understand how I was having a baby and I wasn’t married,” she said, stirring around her bowl of oatmeal before I took her to work this morning (we were expanding the list of approved foods slowly). “Her little eyes looked so confused, and a little judgmental. I mean, they’re just eight and nine, but I feel like I’m letting them down. Those little kids worship me and I had to try to explain to them in a way they could comprehend it. But because they’re kids they moved on to the next thing five minutes later - I wish I could do that.”

“You worry too much,” I said, kissing her forehead which was all clammy and kinda gross from her being anxious. 

“No, I don’t know - it’s different for you because you’re a guy.” 

“I guess.” 

Maricarmen moved closer to me in the bed, still not allowing me to touch her but wriggling around a little trying her best to get comfortable. 

“You’ll enjoy this one” she said, “My mother told me one of my _Tías_ is already ordering little baby traditional clothes so they’re ready for my Fería - they won’t be here for yours in Sevilla. These things are custom and the prints she picked out for the dresses are amazing. They’re losing their shit in Málaga right now, Sergio. This is bigger than the Royal Baby.” 

“Technically it is because we’re having two.”

“Thanks for the reminder, Sergio. I forgot. I don’t know what we did to draw the great fortune of having two instead of one.” 

I needed to change the subject, but she kept talking.

“And my super Catholic Abuelita - she’s been praying for a new baby in the family, but from Laura - not me. So you know what? Now she gets two,” said Maricarmen.

“What is with you today?”

“I feel like my bump is huge today, and my face is getting rounder and I’m just not feeling very pretty at all, Sergito - I dunno. And don’t give me your ‘but you’re perfect, Mari’ talk because not today. I just need to be a little grumpy. Pregnant lady privilege. Okay?”

“Fine.”

“My little kids asked about you too. Is Sergio coming back? Can you bring him back? Will he come to our competition? Does he know you’re having a baby?” 

“You didn’t tell them that important detail?”

“They’re eight - nope. Information overload.” 

“I mean, I’d definitely love to go if it’s not game day.”

“They just want to see me dance with you.”

“I can dance with you here. I know all the _pasos_ as you know.”

“I’m well aware. That’s partially why I like you because you’re like home - slightly different accent, but it’s still close enough. You’re like a _rebujito_ and _borrachuelos_ \- my Abuelita makes them _con azucar_ and then puts _miel de caña_ on the top - they’re so good - and when I can eat food again I will eat a million of them. We can probably get her to do anything once the twins are here. We’ll be taken care of well.” 

“ _Berejenas con miel tambien_ ,” I added. “ _Con mi amor, mi princesa - mi miel de caña personal_.” 

“ _En serio_? You’re so cheesy.”

“ _Pues_ \- I think you’re the sweetest girl, Mari.“

“Promise you’ll talk to her like that,” she said.

“To who?”

“Our little girl.”

“Our little _princesa_? How couldn’t I? She’s going to look just like you - at least I hope she does.”

“This - everything’s making me feel so weird, Sergio. I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.”

“I’ll go to the event with you.”

“ _Gracias, guapa_.” I said, resisting touching her but it was so hard. “Can I kiss you, please?”

 “Yes, you can. _Te amo_ even though I feel like I’m so hard to be lovable right now.”  

 


End file.
